The Soul
by UnromanticPoetess
Summary: Chapter 51 up. A new take on an old theme. What if you gave everything for revenge, and didn't take it? The end of a LONG cliffhanger...
1. A Dream

Disclaimer: If I owned DBZ, it would probably be too messed up to watch. So it is a good thing I don't own it.  
  
Author's Notes: This is my masterpiece. The one I've been writing and editing all summer. I don't have it finished yet, but it's pretty long, so I figured I needed to start posting it. Please read this, and please review. My entire ego as a writer is riding on this. If it is not read, I will be a broken woman.  
  
  
  
Prologue: A Dream  
  
He walked along the lake. He knew that he was dreaming. Somehow he always knew when he was dreaming.  
  
It was night - pitch-black night. Not even the stars shone. And someone was watching him.  
  
He turned his head sharply, scanning the area with well-trained eyes. He tried to hone in on a presence, but in his dream, he could not focus.  
  
But it was her. It could be none other than her.  
  
He began to run.  
  
He had long since left the lake, and was now running in an open field. His throat tightened in panic. He felt like a hunted animal - one who could not escape.  
  
For her presence was getting stronger.  
  
His legs were leaden, and he was finally forced to stop. Panting for breath, he found himself beside the lake once again. He didn't want to face her again. He could think of no way to prevent it.  
  
A dull thunk sound filled the air, and he was thrown forward. He looked down to see a sword tip jutting from his chest. He whirled and stared at the girl who impaled him - the girl he had once loved, and killed. As he dropped to his knees in the expected shock and pain, her mouth formed a smirk. "Hello Vegeta." 


	2. Home

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ.  
  
Author's notes: The prologue is short, and this isn't much longer. So I'm putting them out at the same time. I don't consider the length of chapters, just the common themes.  
  
Chapter 1: Home  
  
Vegeta awakened in a cold sweat, sitting up, mouth open in a silent scream. He quickly realized that it was just another recurring nightmare, and tried to gain control of his breathing. He looked down beside him, expecting to see Bulma fast asleep. But Vegeta was never that lucky. She laid there, wide awake, concern plainly written on her face.  
  
"Another nightmare?" she asked quietly.  
  
The Saiyan bit back a curse. He despised showing weakness or fear to anyone, but he found it difficult to hide all his feelings from the woman.  
  
"What are you doing awake, woman?"  
  
"I just now left the lab," she answered sleepily.  
  
'If the lab wasn't in her home, I'd call it her second home,' thought Vegeta. This was really the reason the two were able to stand each other. Both were immersed in their own obsession - Bulma for her inventions, and Vegeta for his training. This made the time they did spend together bearable - almost (though they were loathe to admit this) pleasant.  
  
Vegeta rolled out of bed, ignoring Bulma's gaze, and threw on his clothes. There was no way he could sleep anymore tonight. He had to think - away from the oppressive walls of the building he still had trouble seeing as home.  
  
Bulma shrugged and rolled over, pulling the sheets over her head. She knew she could not get anything out of him - not when he was like this. In a matter of minutes, she fell asleep.  
  
Vegeta flew - away from the house, away from the city, into a small clearing in the nearest woods - the one place he could escape from everything, even his ego and ambition. He lay on his back and stared at the starry sky, immersed in thoughts of the distant past. His eyes scrutinized the sky until he found the star - the one Planet Vegeta had once orbited - home. He had spent months determining its position in the earth's sky, and a night rarely passed when he did not seek it out. He did not feel homesickness, or even loneliness. Only a profound sense of loss.  
  
Vegeta sighed in frustration as his reverie was interrupted by the sense of a familiar ki approaching. Vegeta continued to stare at the star of his lost home.  
  
"What possessed you to follow me, Trunks?"  
  
The teenager sat at his father's side. "I wanted to see what was upsetting you."  
  
"Who asked you?" came Vegeta's angry retort.  
  
Deciding not to press the subject, Trunks changed the subject abruptly. "Where is it?"  
  
"What?" Vegeta asked wearily.  
  
"Home."  
  
Vegeta felt his son's penetrating gaze, and countered with one of his own. Trunks reluctantly broke the link and turned his eyes back upward.  
  
After a few minutes Vegeta broke the tense silence. "Do you see that bright star near the three in a row?"  
  
"Yes. Is that it?"  
  
"No. It is the faint star to the right of it."  
  
Trunks squinted. Only Saiyan eyes could make it out without a telescope. "It seems so far away."  
  
"It is," whispered Vegeta.  
  
Trunks again looked at his father. "Is that what's wrong?"  
  
Vegeta was filled with the sudden urge to let go of his most well-kept secret, a desire akin to loneliness. And why should he not tell the person he trusted the most, his own son?  
  
"Trunks, let me tell you a story . . ." 


	3. A Story

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ.  
  
Author's Notes: Hello? Is anyone out there? Please review. I hope you like this chapter. It explains a whole bunch.  
  
Chapter 2: A Story  
  
"In a time before I heard of earth, before Planet Vegeta was destroyed, I was considered the strongest, the Prince of all Saiyans. My power and my destiny were never questioned. I was destined to be the first in thousands of years to ascend to the level of Super Saiyan. I know this transformation seems almost commonplace now, but then, it was the sole hope of the Saiyan race. Even as a baby my power and potential were gauged as superior. I was the pride of my family, but three years after this pride came shame.  
  
In those days, a Saiyan's highest transformation was Oozaru. Yet, there were some Saiyans born deformed, without tails. This was a sign of weakness. Most of the deformed were killed at birth. However, sometimes a child could not simply be disposed of. Such was the case of my sister.  
  
Yes, my sister. She was a member of the royal family. She could not be disposed of like a peasant child. I was three at the time, yet I still remember her as a baby - a whiny, puny little thing. But, even though every teaching told me to hate her, I could not. As she grew, she constantly pestered me to train her, and I could not refuse. I trained her, and she grew stronger. No matter how strange she looked, she was definitely a Saiyan, with a thirst for battle and challenge.  
  
I still remember the day she became a princess. The title was not given to her. King Vegeta would not allow it. She was not considered a warrior either. But I prepared her to fight for both titles. And she earned them in a fight before the king, at the age of six.  
  
Not long afterwards I was enlisted in Frieza's elite fighting force. My sister was furious, and I was told later that she killed one of Frieza's soldiers in her rage.  
  
I didn't see her again until the day I found out about Planet Vegeta's destruction. Frieza had called me into his throne room to inform me personally. I believe he had a sadistic thrill from telling me, and watching me struggle to keep my horror and grief at bay. As I stood there, with the other warriors making wagers about if I would break down into tears, two warriors dragged my struggling sister in the room. She saw me, and quickly broke free of her captors. Frieza was intrigued by her spirit, and let her enlist in the elite fighting force and stay with me.  
  
We did everything together, being the only royal Saiyans in existence. We trained, we fought, we killed. I remember our arguments as we grew older. We would argue at the tops of our lungs - and end up pounding on each other. Every fight ended in a draw. We'd refuse to speak for several hours, but would call a truce until next time. Besides my advantage in Oozaru form, we were a perfect match in strength and skill.  
  
Those arguments helped us vent frustration. As we grew older, we realized we were slaves to Frieza. He was using us, and we were letting him. We hated it, but we had different ways of rebelling.  
  
My sister's only yearning was for freedom. She did not understand that I was submitting to Frieza's rule as a means to an end. I was using my missions to train. I was simply waiting for the right time - the right opportunity - to overthrow Frieza."  
  
Vegeta spoke with a quiet intensity. What began as a reluctant monologue was now an unstoppable outpouring of a long-hidden past.  
  
"Instead of following my example, my sister spent her time in research - and writing. Of course she kept up with me in training, but she also researched how Frieza had amassed such a huge empire - and why all the warriors who worked for him didn't simply gang up against him. She wrote all her findings in a text, and was preparing to use her research to rally all warriors against Frieza.  
  
Frieza found out.  
  
One day, Frieza called every warrior not on a mission into his throne room. He described a plot against him, in the form of a certain manuscript. He called me forward, saying it was my turn to execute a traitor. Then he called the author forward. Without a moment's pause my sister stepped forward."  
  
Vegeta's voice was gruff - gruffer than usual. His hands were clenched into fists, and a slow tear was escaping one eye. Trunks looked away in embarrassment, but Vegeta was lost, unaware of anything but the visions from his past.  
  
"My sister openly denounced Frieza, calling him a coward, saying that new ideas were a threat to his power. She called all warriors to rise up against him. They didn't, not surprisingly. Then she called me to join her. I didn't know what to do. If I joined with her we would both be killed, and lose the chance to overthrow Frieza. I couldn't let that happen. The only alternative was to kill her. So I did. But not without betrayal. I tried to take her down in a fair fight, but, as usual, we were a perfect match. I had to turn Oozaru, something I'd vowed never to do to her.  
  
Before I truly killed her, I changed back. There she lay broken at my feet, cursing me and cursing Frieza. She told me that she would find a way to surpass death so she could take revenge on her two killers: Frieza - and me."  
  
Vegeta's throat constricted as he bit back an involuntary sob. He couldn't remember the last time he had let himself get so overcome with emotion. Trunks occasionally wiped a fugitive tear from his own face, waiting for his father to regain composure. If Vegeta saw his son crying, he might close up again - become distant.  
  
"I didn't watch her die. I couldn't stand it. I left the room, ignoring the laughter at the pathetic scene. I can't remember much after that. I found later that her body had been disintegrated. I threw away all her things except for her diary. I've kept it, but I haven't read it."  
  
Vegeta, no longer crying, rose from the cool grass. His emotions were spent, leaving him exhausted and yearning for sleep. Trunks rose as well and asked, "Dad? What was her name?"  
  
Vegeta looked down and gave a ghost of a smile. "Her name was Jita." 


	4. A Girl

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: OK, I messed up. I left this chapter out. It's not really important, but I did write it, so why not put it on?  
  
Chapter 3: A Girl  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
Trunks leaned against a wall next to the entrance of Orange Star High School, arms folded, with a sulky glare on his face. Despite his purple hair and blue eyes, the young man was the very image of his father. Suddenly, Trunks let out a sigh and checked his watch. One minute more.  
  
After five minutes Trunks sighed angrily and abandoned his post at the door. He ignored a group of girls looking his way and giggling something about his butt. This angered him, but not as much as what he saw before him.  
  
Goten. Flirting with a girl. Completely oblivious. During training time.  
  
"Goten," he said sharply.  
  
Goten started, suddenly realizing his blunder. "Oh, sorry Sarah. I forgot I was supposed to be somewhere."  
  
The girl smiled.  
  
Goten, scratching the back of his head, said, "Hey, listen. Could you give me your phone number?"  
  
The girl looked at him oddly. "Why? We can see each other every day."  
  
"Just in case I want to talk to you after class."  
  
Sarah narrowed her eyes. "You give me yours."  
  
"OK," Goten replied, handing her a ready-made card. Trunks tapped his foot impatiently, which, in his frustration, made slight tremors in the ground.  
  
"Sorry, man," Goten said, slightly abashed. "Bye, Sarah."  
  
The two young men ran off and began to fly toward Capsule Corp. As they flew, Trunks smirked over at Goten.  
  
"What?" came Goten's quick reply.  
  
"You may think you're a player, but she had you beat."  
  
"No way! I had the situation under control."  
  
Trunks snorted in disdain, but said nothing. Goten looked over at his friend and said, "Look, I really am sorry for the hold-up."  
  
Trunks rolled his eyes. "Don't apologize to me. Worry about our fathers."  
  
  
  
"You're late," roared the impatient prince when the two young men scurried into the living room.  
  
"Sorry, Dad," Trunks replied, not the one to avert guilt.  
  
"Sorry, Vegeta," Goten echoed distractedly. "Hey, where's Dad?"  
  
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Where else," as he pointed toward the adjoining kitchen. Sounds came from the kitchen that would turn even a Saiyan stomach.  
  
Trunks wrinkled his nose in disgust. "At least he's getting rid of some of Mom's cooking."  
  
The sounds subsided, and Goku walked into the living room, still chewing. "Well, I can't say it was good, but it sure was filling."  
  
Vegeta scowled at the insult thrown at his mate, even though it was the truth. "Well, if you're finished stuffing your face, Kakarrot, can you spare some of your precious time for training?"  
  
Goku smiled, completely missing the sarcasm. "Sure! Now that the boys are here. What took you so long? Goten, have you been talking to one of your girlfriends?"  
  
The four warriors started heading for the gravity room as Trunks chuckled softly. The man was never as stupid as he let on.  
  
Goten's eyes widened. "But this one is special. She's gorgeous and smart - and funny - and ." He realized no one was really paying attention as Vegeta turned on the machine and cranked it up to 400. And they began to train. 


	5. A Picnic

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I am updating often in the futile hope that someone will read my work. I am now wasting away from lack of feedback. I don't know how much longer I can go on. This may be the end. Goodbye cruel world!  
  
  
  
Chapter 4: A Picnic  
  
"Goku, Goten, how dare you get back so late?!"  
  
Chichi stood there, red-faced, glaring at her husband and son. Dinner was on the table, but she stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance.  
  
Goku smiled, looking past her. "We aren't late. Mmm, that smells good."  
  
Chichi giggled, thinking 'he noticed.' "It's my new perfume."  
  
"What was that?" Goku asked, already pushing past her to the heavily laden table.  
  
Chichi huffed angrily. "Oh, never mind. And by the way. Goten?"  
  
Goten looked up, hastily swallowing his food. He despised the way his father talked with his mouth full. "Yes, mom?"  
  
"A girl called. How many times have I told you that with your studies and the training you insist upon, you don't have time for girls?"  
  
"When did she say she'd call back?"  
  
Chichi sighed in exasperation. "She said she'd see you tomorrow."  
  
Goten smiled and continued eating. Within an hour the food was completely gone. After a brief struggle, Goku was set to washing the dishes and Goten pulled out his full bookbag. Chichi was about to sit down with a magazine when the phone rang. Bulma was on the other end.  
  
"Hi Bulma."  
  
"Hi Chichi. Are you busy?"  
  
"Not now. Something on your mind?"  
  
"Well, I just thought - we haven't all gotten together in a while, so, since the boys need a break from all their training - we could have a picnic this Saturday."  
  
"Bulma, there was that get-together no long ago . . ."  
  
"Yeah, but I was thinking just your family and mine. Of course Gohan and them too. Besides, I've asked everyone else, and they all have plans. Listen, it's my last free Saturday for a long time, and I don't want to spend it cooped up in the house."  
  
Chichi smiled in understanding. "It's a great idea. And instead of at Capsule Corp., we can have it at the lake near our house."  
  
"That's kind of what I was thinking. Listen - (explosion in background) Vegeta! If you've broken that again! - Uh, Chichi, I've got to go. We'll talk tomorrow. Bye."  
  
"Bye, Bulma," Chichi said, happily hanging up the phone. "Did you guys hear that?"  
  
"A picnic sounds good," Goku clumsily wiped out a pot. "I'll tell Gohan tomorrow. I'm gonna get some real training done with him."  
  
Goten bit back a bitter retort. "Uh, Mom. Can I invite someone?"  
  
"A girl?" Goku grinned mischievously, oblivious to the eye daggers Goten was throwing his way.  
  
"Very well," Chichi sighed, also oblivious. "Might as well meet the threat to you education." 


	6. A What?

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I realized that the chapters are a little short, especially that last one. And I'm not as pathetic as I made myself out to be. I'm not going to die. I can exist as a hopeless husk of my former self as well as anyone else.  
  
  
  
Chapter 5: A What?  
  
"A what?"  
  
"A picnic," Goten said, staring into Sarah's slightly puzzled eyes. Her obsidian eyes. He could lose himself in her eyes. "It's when a bunch of friends get together and bring . . ."  
  
"I know what a picnic it," Sarah interrupted. "I just don't see the point. Isn't eating outside unsanitary? Insects are abundant on this planet."  
  
"Yeah, bit it'll be fun. And you'll get to meet my family."  
  
"All right, I'll go," she said, suddenly eager. "Do I have to bring food?"  
  
"Nah. Not with all the food my mom's cooking. So, where can I meet you?"  
  
"Tell me where it is and I'll be there."  
  
Gotten, ever prepared, handed Sarah some directions for the lake, dismissing yet another evasion to the question of her residence. Sarah smiled, turned, and said, "I'll be early."  
  
  
  
"A what?"  
  
"You heard what I said, Vegeta. And you are coming. I suggested this so we could spend some time together and just have fun. And you will have fun if I have to force you the entire time." Bulma glared - a glare rivaling a Saiyan's. she folded her arms, bracing herself against expected opposition. Instead, Vegeta, distracted, said, "Fine."  
  
Bulma was caught off guard. Vegeta was often distracted, even pensive as of late. He wasn't even cranky, just - distracted. And his nightmares were becoming more frequent. Bulma had almost thought about scheduling an appointment with a psychiatrist, but figured any person who tried to counsel the former genocidal murderer would need counseling themselves. And he had always been somewhat disturbed. It's a part of what make him who he is. She decided that this too would pass and to just enjoy the quiet while it lasted.  
  
  
  
"A what?"  
  
"It's a picnic, Pan. And you could hear if you would turn down that baseball game!" Videl had been telling her to do just that all afternoon.  
  
Gohan put the papers he had been grading into his desk, resolving to finish them that night. "Dad said it was just going to be the Sons and the Briefs. But if you wanted to invite your parents," he ended mischievously.  
  
Videl laughed derisively. "Get my father in any close vicinity to that group? He still tells everyone that all of you are just a bunch of fakes and magicians."  
  
Gohan laughed and pulled out a book. "Well, mom will be calling any time now."  
  
Pan's attention momentarily diverted from the game. "Daddy, will Bra be there?  
  
"Of course, sweetie."  
  
"Good," and went back to the ball game, slightly annoyed at the conversation in the background.  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: I just discovered a wonderful writer: DoraMouse. This person actually take the writing seriously, and has original stories as well as a higher understanding of all characters. Also go to the website at www.geocities.com/cheshirekatz. Not only does it contain wonderful writing tips, it also has a growing character compendium, which will give you the most complete character analysis and timeline I've ever seen. So far it mostly has characters introduced in Dragonball, but since those are the least understood and analyzed character, it is a wonderful reference for writing those characters into your story. Each analysis takes a while to read, but it is well worth it. 


	7. A Confrontation

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you for my review, Omega. You helped me get over my writer's block. I hearby dedicate this chapter to you. And it's a good one.  
  
  
  
Chapter 6: A Confrontation  
  
The sun was unexpectedly hot that Saturday. Bulma, Chichi, and Videl were setting out mountains of food, jabbering away. Pan and Bra were arguing over who would be which Powerpuff Girl. Goku, Gohan, and Trunks had jumped into the water first thing, and were now acting like the over-grown children all men really are. Goten, after introducing everyone to Sarah, walked to the far side of the lake. Vegeta had insisted upon training a little that morning, and was a little late.  
  
"Look at them," Videl said dreamily, gesturing toward Goten and Sarah. "I really think he's found the one."  
  
Chichi nodded, smiling. She had liked the intelligence she had sensed from the girl, and the fact that she didn't look like a fighter. Just the girl to give Goten a well-rounded life. And Videl had not been so bad for Gohan. And, hey - grandchildren.  
  
Videl suddenly snapped out of her uncharacteristically dreamy mood, prompted by the ever-increasing struggle between the two pint-sized part- Saiyans to be Buttercup. "All right, that's it! You either choose or you can both sit quietly, but the argument ends here!"  
  
"But . . ." Bra began, but was quickly silenced by a hard look from her mother, who didn't even need to speak.  
  
"Hey, why don't you both be Buttercup," a dripping Trunks intervened. "See, one Buttercup is from an alternate timeline who has come to warn . . ."  
  
  
  
"So, what do you think of my family?"  
  
Sarah sat by the lake with Goten, nervously slathering on sun block. "It feels like you live in a sitcom."  
  
Goten laughed at the frank description of his loving, if kooky, family. Gohan had lost no time in teasing Goten in the way older brothers must hold a patent on. Goku had treated Sarah as he did everyone, friendly and with barely any conversational inhibitions. Pan had ignored her entirely. She was just another big person to Pan. But Videl and Chichi were the reasons they had escaped to the far side of the lake. There would be enough interrogation during the meal.  
  
"Are you sure that's all of your family?" asked Sarah.  
  
Goten scratched the back of his head. "Well, my dad was kind of adopted. He doesn't really have a family besides us. And my grandfather on my mom's side decided not to come. Other than that --," he ended with a shrug.  
  
The two had been talking for a long time now. The more Goten talked to Sarah, the more he liked her. There was a passion that drove her, a flame behind her eyes. It was as if energy was ready to pour out of her. 'She would have made a great fighter,' Goten thought wistfully.  
  
But Sarah had already shown confusion and disinterest toward his inclination for fighting. She had spoken with great interest, if a seemingly limited experience, about music, movies, books, and even branching into more academic areas. She seemed to want to drink knowledge in.  
  
Goten suddenly realized that conversation had stopped, and the two had been staring at each other in a kind of tense silence. She was perfect, and before long, he just couldn't contain himself any longer.  
  
He kissed her.  
  
And it seemed Goten was suddenly complete. The kiss seemed to take all eternity, yet was over before he wanted it. The two seemed to have formed a link, beyond words, beyond reason. He didn't even think to apologize, or explain. Just to be in that perfect moment for all time.  
  
"Goten! If you want any food, you'd better get over here with your girlfriend!"  
  
Goten growled at the sound of his dad's yelling, shattering his perfect moment. Sarah smirked and rose from the grass in on smooth move. Goten stumbled to his feet, annoyed at his lack of grace around the girl. They began their trek around the lake.  
  
  
  
Gohan chuckled at the sight of the two young people making their way slowly around the lake. "Man, when Goten won't rush over for food, you know he's smitten."  
  
Bulma frowned, having spotted someone flying toward the picnic area. Within seconds Vegeta had landed. "Nice of you to join us at the last possible second." Despite her harsh words, Bulma was relieved Vegeta had come at all. Maybe he would loosen up now that he's had a workout.  
  
"I'm here, woman," Vegeta retorted. "What else do you want?" Nope, he seemed tenser than usual "Vegeta-'I'm-the-Prince-of-all-Saiyans'-mode." His eyes kept shifting around, as if he expected a surprise attack from on of the bushes or picnic baskets. And his hands were clenched into fists.  
  
Trunks tried to lighten his father's mood. "Don't look now," he said jocularly, "but Goten's brought a girlfriend."  
  
"Why would I care about a stu ." Vegeta trailed off as he gaped at the girl at Goten's side.  
  
Goten, slightly unnerved by Vegeta's uncharacteristic expression, tried to break the ice. "Oh, Sarah. This is Trunks's dad . . ."  
  
But Goten stopped cold as he saw Sarah tense, and felt her energy level rise. For a moment, she and Vegeta gaped at each other. But before anyone could react, Sarah's mouth twisted into a smirk as she uttered the seemingly innocent yet dreaded words:  
  
"Hello, Vegeta." 


	8. A Battle

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I'm going computerless for the weekend. You didn't think I'd keep you in suspense all weekend, did you? (she said as if more than one person read her story. Not that I'm not grateful, my wonderful one reviewer) Anyway, mucho action now. I tried to shoot for a classic DBZ battle, but I can't write action well. But it will be multiple chapters, so ENJOY!  
  
  
  
Chapter 7: A Battle  
  
Goten instinctively backed away from the girl, astonished not only by the cruel smirk on her face, but also by the sudden increase in her ki. The air seemed to crackle around her as all looked on in astonishment. Vegeta, still in shock, stammered out, "What? H-how?"  
  
The girl who had taken the name Sarah twisted her mouth from a smirk to a sneer. "You had forgotten about me. You didn't think I'd come back."  
  
"You were dead. I-I know you were dead." No one had seen Vegeta this afraid since Namek.  
  
"Oh my God," whispered Trunks. "It can't be."  
  
Vegeta, seeming to collect his wits, said, "I assume you still wish to kill me, Jita."  
  
Jita glared at him, sliding into a classic defensive stance as naturally as breathing. "Yes, dear brother. That is exactly what I had in mind. I don't want to leave your - humph - family bereft, but I must have the vengeance I promised. You see, I keep my promises. And I expect for no one, Saiyan or otherwise, to interfere."  
  
Her eyes slid over to the others. Videl and Chichi were having a time holding back Bulma, who was having trouble calming down after hearing the words 'kill' and 'bereft.' Pan and Bra had left for the woods some time ago to play. Trunks and Goten were both confused over what to do, while Goku and Gohan looked ready to help Vegeta if necessary. Vegeta gave a meaningful look to Goku and Gohan. The two nodded and backed away, pulling Goten and Trunks back as well.  
  
Jita nodded in satisfaction and lifted her hand. A transparent yet sparkling barrier formed around the two warriors, blocking an area big enough for a good battle. "Just a precaution," she commented.  
  
Quick as a fox, Jita attacked. Vegeta had been ready, and blocked, only to have her kick from behind. He responded by grabbing her foot, and flinging her forward. As she was sailing through the air, she fired a quick round of ki blasts, barely singeing Vegeta's hair as he dodged. She vanished and reappeared behind him, where they began a close assault, each causing a minimal amount of damage as they punched, kicked, and dodged.  
  
"He's holding back, even for normal form," Trunks commented.  
  
"They're both holding back," Goku said, eyes following each movement.  
  
The battle increased. Vegeta hated it. He loved to fight, but this was his homicidal dead sister - not even aged a day. He didn't want to kill her again, but she seemed dead set on killing him. He decided to try to hold her still and talk to her. With a feint to the front, he disappeared and reappeared behind her, locking her arms behind her with his. She could not move.  
  
"I don't want to kill you," he said. With a grunt and inhuman strength, Jita kicked her leg high enough to catch him in the face. The unexpected maneuver and the pain caused him to loosen his grip. "You won't have to," Jita retorted.  
  
Now they were no longer holding back, and they were matching each other perfectly. "Why won't he go super?" Gohan asked rhetorically.  
  
Trunks, never taking his eyes off his father, replied, "He transformed to kill her the first time." With that Trunks gave a shortened version of the story his Dad had told him. Goten stood there, shaking his head in disbelief. Bulma had dissolved into tears. Just when she had gotten a slightly less dysfunctional family, this had to happen.  
  
After a fairly loud explosion of two ki blasts colliding, Jita and Vegeta paused, regarding each other, rethinking their strategy. It had been so long, Vegeta had grown so much stronger, but she was still his match. They had been fighting for over two hours, and no advantage had been gained. "I'm sorry I have to do this," Vegeta said gruffly. "I have no desire to kill you again, but I must end this now."  
  
Jita's eyebrows raised in surprise as Vegeta clenched his fists, calling forth the legendary transformation of Super Saiyan. His hair and aura turned yellow, and his pupils dissolved as his eyes turned aqua. He stood straight and proud, expecting a show of shock or dismay, or even slight fear. 


	9. She Laughed

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Note: The weekend is over. YAY!! ( She cheered weakly as she staggered back to her computer.) End of cliffhanger. Thanks to my reviewer. And I'll get to Goten's feelings soon enough. I couldn't ignore Goten for long.  
  
  
  
Chapter 8: She Laughed  
  
Instead, she laughed.  
  
She seemed to smile at her brother, saying, "You really did it. I always knew you would. You are just full of surprises. I wonder . . . which of us was first."  
  
Before Vegeta could react, Jita had made the same transformation - blonde hair, aqua eyes. Vegeta gave a small smile. He had almost expected this.  
  
The two continued their fight with renewed vigor as the four astonished warriors continued to watch. Goku watched with great interest. He had rarely seen Vegeta in an actual life-or-death battle that he wasn't involved in or unconscious. He also noticed something very strange. "Her technique," he whispered to himself.  
  
"What was that?" Gohan inquired, eyes still glued to the fight.  
  
Goku seemed to be trying to figure something out. "Usually someone will stick to a pattern in their fighting style. I can usually figure out the pattern. So can anyone, I guess. But her - I don't think she even has a pattern. She has an incredible variety of techniques - most I've never seen - and she's completely random. I can tell she was trained first by Vegeta from the foundations of her style, but where did she learn how to fight after that? She fights - like - a demon."  
  
Trunks squinted in concentration at the movements. "I think Dad realizes there is no pattern. He's becoming extremely adaptable. Plus, she expects him to fight like her. Dad gets her with repetition."  
  
"Why are you people so calm?!" uttered an angry Bulma behind them. Trunks turned in surprise. Videl and Chichi, along with Bulma, had walked the short distance to the Son house, hoping to find Pan and Bra. But Bulma had apparently returned. "We're here to defend Dad if it comes to that. But why did you come back?" Trunks replied calmly.  
  
Bulma tried to take on the calm demeanor of her son, but couldn't hide her worry and anger. "I couldn't stand it. I know who she is and shy she is here, and I have to be here. I've been fearing this day for longer than you've known. And there's no way you can make me go." So no one objected.  
  
After a furious series of attacks, the two fighters faced each other, catching their breath. Both had been aware of the modifications to their audience, and Jita smirked, saying, in the Saiyan language, "Is that woman actually your mate?" The only response she received was a deepened scowl. "And your son is also watching. Your son! A family! That was something I never expected."  
  
"What did you expect?" Vegeta answered tightly, also in Saiyan.  
  
"I didn't expect you to be alive. I heard Frieza killed you shortly before his own death, and that you had not been heard from again, not even in hell. Have you been here all this time? A home and a family. Where's the ruthless wandering warrior prince I knew so many years ago? All grown up? Or dead?" After a pause she remarked, "I guess it doesn't really matter."  
  
And the fighting resumed. 


	10. A Duel

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Last chapter was short, so I decided to upload two chapters. This one is longer. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 9: A Duel  
  
The sun was beginning to dip past the horizon as the fight stretched into its ninth hour. Chichi had finally convinced the spectators into eating, but the two opponents fought on tirelessly, having pushed beyond the level of Super Saiyan and turned their auras golden.  
  
But the women were not only worried about the state of the fighters and watchers.  
  
"PAN! BRA!"  
  
Videl had been looking for an hour, with no luck. The two little imps were pushing their power levels down so they could have as much play time as possible.  
  
And to keep from being killed by their mothers.  
  
"Pan, don't we need to go back?" asked a wide-eyed Bra  
  
"No way," replied the ever-rebellious Pan. "Do you really want to go to bed?"  
  
"No," said Bra uneasily, "but I think I hear a fight. I want to see it."  
  
"But they won't let us. It's too late. Unless," Pan began with sudden inspiration. She paused as she worked out a scheme in her head.  
  
"Unless what?" said Bra, suddenly eager.  
  
Pan grinned widely. "There's a dense clump of trees we can hide behind and watch."  
  
"I know the place," replied Bra. "But how are we going to get there without being seen?"  
  
"Oh." Pan's face clouded over again.  
  
But the inspiration fell to Bra this time. "Hey, wait a minute! We could swim over there!"  
  
Pan's face brightened. "That's a great idea! Last one to the lake is a rotten egg!"  
  
And the two Saiyan girls raced to the lake.  
  
  
  
Vegeta was beginning to tire. He had never fought this long before. He was much older than his sister - at least in body - and she had obviously done almost continuous endurance training.  
  
His sister had not changed. Oh, sure, she was stronger. Incredibly stronger. But physically, she was still the age of her death - nineteen. And more than that. She had not changed emotionally or mentally. Not like he had. And Vegeta almost envied her - until he saw the look in her eyes. Haunted. One of pain and misery. A look Vegeta had nearly lost. And he wouldn't have traded with her for anything.  
  
But had he changed. He was still not the most sociable person around. And he still had nightmares, so he was not well adjusted.  
  
Then he felt - a flicker. There was a power source in the lake. No - two. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two small figures sneak out of the water. This was not good.  
  
Jita whipped around, and shocking the two children to where they couldn't move, let loose an energy blast at them. There was no time for anyone to stop it. The two tykes were doomed. "No one helps!" screamed Jita. Bra cringed against her inevitable demise . . . which never came.  
  
Instead, she saw her father hold the blast back by taking the brunt of it.  
  
The air was filled with screaming. The two girls were frozen in terror. Vegeta struggled to his feet. "Are you insane?!" he demanded, this time in the earth language. "When have you ever casually killed Saiyan children?"  
  
Jita was taken aback, and almost apologized. She had thought they were adult warriors trying to interfere. She collected herself just in time, and let down the barrier. She folded her arms and glared at the tykes. "Go to your mothers. You should have returned to them long ago."  
  
For once, shaken by the near death experience, Pan obeyed instantly. Bra, however, stood her ground. "If you hurt my daddy, I'll . . ." she screamed, glaring at Jita.  
  
"Bra," Vegeta interrupted, pointing her in Bulma's direction. Bra backed down reluctantly. "Yes, Daddy," she replied running toward the others. The instant she left the fighting grounds, the barrier was back up. Vegeta watched his daughter with pride as she resisted being taken to bed. She was usually better-behaved, but he was glad to see she could act like a Saiyan when she needed to. He didn't have that long to reflect, though. It didn't take him long to recover from the blast, and they were back fighting within minutes.  
  
Jita was confused and frustrated. Her brother was changed. A family? A home? Acting the hero? Yet he was stronger than ever. What could have changed him? His drive seemed purer, in a way. And stronger. Everything was different and new. 'I will think and analyze later,' she thought, pushing away all distractions. Then an idea came to her, and she decided to try it. She remembered she and Vegeta would fight with swords. In a thought, she formed her ki into the shape of two swords, and willed them into metal - a technique she had learned long ago. Vegeta nodded in understanding and caught the sword Jita tossed to him. With that, they dueled.  
  
Vegeta had not used a weapon in a long time, but his skill had not left him. He began to truly lose himself in the fight, and the past. Jita was beginning to do the same.  
  
For that time, it was like they were children again. Both smiled tightly, remembering the time when they only had each other. When they were a true match. For three sold hours they did this. It was a starless night, and all that could be seen was by the golden auras from the two Super Saiyans. Jita felt a rush of feelings she hadn't felt in decades - joy . . . and freedom. However, a thought flashed through her head: 'Why am I here?'  
  
That's when the spell was broken, and she remembered her death - and her guest for vengeance. With a startling change, she screamed and attacked with renewed ferocity. Vegeta was caught completely off guard as Jita rammed her sword through his gut.  
  
Vegeta's world exploded in this half-remembered dream turned prophesy. He grabbed the hilt as he dropped to his knees in pain. He could barely hear his name being screamed out by many voices. He chuckled as he croaked out, "Must my death always be so meaningless?" He began to black out.  
  
'What it that?' Vegeta thought, hearing a barely recognizable voice mumbling words he couldn't make out. The mumbling stopped and he instinctively climbed to his feet. He looked around, and saw his sister. 'She can't be dead, too.' Then he realized he wasn't dead, and the mumbling voice had been Jita's.  
  
"What happened?" he gasped out.  
  
Jita, gasping for breath, replied, "I lost control. I wasn't ready to kill you, so I healed you."  
  
"You weren't ready?"  
  
"Not until I get some answers." 


	11. Answers

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks again to Omega, my one reviewer. (sighs) Boy, do I wish I could get more reviews. Not to get me wrong, Omega. Your reviews save me from writer's block, and I will get around to reading your fics when my professors don't assign me major projects two days in advance. Anyway, I'll be gone this weekend, so I decided to update before I left. Hope you enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 10: Answers  
  
"Mommy, why can't I go back and see Daddy?" Bulma was busy tucking Bra into bed in what looked like Gohan's former room. A borrowed gown from Chichi seemed to swallow her up.  
  
"Mommy?" Bra repeated.  
  
"Baby, I don't want you hurt. I'm sure the fight will be finished when you wake up." Bulma couldn't stand to look into her daughter's eyes.  
  
"Mommy?"  
  
"Yes, Bra."  
  
"Is Daddy gonna die?" Tears were forming in her eyes.  
  
"Oh, baby." Bulma wrapped her arms around Bra, rocking her back and forth. She began to sing quietly, to soothe Bra as well as herself. She trailed off as Bra drifted to sleep. Laying Bra down, Bulma joined Videl in the living room. Chichi had gone to the lake to convince her boys to get some sleep. Videl handed Bulma a cup of tea, which she gratefully accepted.  
  
"How long have they been fighting?" Bulma asked miserably.  
  
"About twelve hours," Videl replied. "I can't b-believe . . ." She trailed off, shivering.  
  
Bulma shared in the younger woman's grief. Having two young girls who were best friends had brought the two women closer. "How's Pan doing?" Bulma asked gently.  
  
Videl laughed slightly. "Angry, if anything. She can't believe she just froze. She was debating about who to ask for more training."  
  
Bulma smiled. Sometimes she just couldn't figure out these Saiyans. "I . . ."  
  
"Bulma!"  
  
Bulma jumped at the sound of Chichi screaming her name, but also at the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. It reminded her of when . . .  
  
"Vegeta," she whispered. In a flash she was running down the trail to the lake. She was vaguely aware of Chichi telling Videl to stay with the kids. She heard Trunks screaming - and knew.  
  
The woman - that witch sister - was kneeling over Vegeta - and pulling a sword out of his gut.  
  
Bulma screamed.  
  
  
  
Vegeta, still in shock from his near death experience, regarded his sister narrowly. "What are your questions?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why what?"  
  
"Why did I die?"  
  
Vegeta sighed. He knew it would be a little while before they began fighting again. Both needed to rest and recover a bit. He turned to see Trunks and Bulma pounding at the barrier. Jita, through ragged breaths, said, "Go on and talk to them for a few minutes before that son of yours does something drastic."  
  
Vegeta realized she was right and left her to recover. Bulma and Trunks ceased their futile attempts at breaking the barrier as Vegeta strode purposefully toward them, despite the fact that his body was screaming in protest.  
  
"Dad! Are you OK? You were impaled!" Trunks shouted, barely hiding the fear of losing his father again.  
  
"I am well aware of that, Trunks. And she healed me. I am simply giving her the chance to recover some of her energy."  
  
Bulma just stared ahead, tears running down her face. She had almost lost both her daughter and her husband in the same night. The suddenness of both close calls, and the fact that both were alive - it was all getting too much for her.  
  
Trunks had lost all sympathy for his new-found aunt, but was slowly regaining it. She had healed him. "Why?" he asked.  
  
"So she can continue fighting," came Vegeta's impatient reply.  
  
Trunks realized his blunder. "No. Why did she heal you?"  
  
Vegeta looked over his shoulder at his sister - who now, strangely, seemed to be staring at Goten - and then looked back at his son. "She realized she didn't need vengeance as much as resolution. She wants answers. And so do I." He paused. "I'll talk with her. I'll fight her. But I won't kill her again."  
  
Vegeta turned and began to walk back to his sister, when Bulma broke out of her spell, saying, "Don't you dare get killed. You can't escape from me that easily."  
  
Vegeta turned to her and gave her a look that seemed to reassure her, 'I'll never leave you.'  
  
  
  
Jita half-closed her eyes in concentration. Healing the sword wound had taken a lot of energy, but she knew a few techniques to get back to at least his power level, if not a little more. She watched her brother reassuring his family. A very odd sight. It awakened something within her - something she would rather not face. She forced herself to look away. As she stared off into space, or so she thought, her eyes finally came to focus on Goten. His father was talking to him, yet he was only half listening. Instead, he seemed to be staring at her. For some reason she looked away. What was that she felt? It was almost like - shame. She had used him and lied to him, but she really almost - liked the boy. Shaking her head in frustration, she looked up to see Vegeta walking toward her.  
  
The two Saiyans faced each other. They had reverted to normal form to conserve energy. The clouds had moved back, allowing the moon to shine enough to see.  
  
"Why did I die?" Jita repeated her question in Saiyan.  
  
"You weren't strong enough," Vegeta replied simply.  
  
"All right. Why did you kill me?"  
  
Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "I had no choice."  
  
Jita snorted derisively. "Don't give me that. We all have a choice. You could have joined with me."  
  
"Against Frieza?"  
  
"But together we could have . . ."  
  
"We could have what?! Died a meaningless death - accomplishing nothing? You were already on that road. Joining you would have been pointless."  
  
"But -"  
  
"We would not only have thrown our lives away, we would have destroyed part of the Saiyan race - the entire royal family - the only potential threat to Frieza's power! I was waiting until we were strong enough! Of course I wanted to rebel against Frieza! I wanted to kill him! But it wasn't time! We weren't powerful enough!"  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?!"  
  
"I thought I didn't have to!"  
  
The siblings stared at each other. They had been shouting and both were furious. Suddenly, the fight was on. 


	12. Final Hour

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed!! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, being computerless and all. Well, just for that, I'll make this a two-chapter update. YAY!! They're all short, but good, if I do say so myself. Chocolate bars for anyone who reviews!  
  
  
  
Chapter 11: Final Hour  
  
No one could tell who started it, and only the practiced eyes of the onlooking warriors could keep up with the furious blur of movement. They were not playing now. Both were out to cause serious damage. Through their fighting they still shouted angrily. Vegeta was beyond reason. Jita was beyond logic. Betrayal had tainted their feelings for so long. They fought the whole morning through, and it was close to noon. Both warriors were thoroughly exhausted - having gone without water, food, or rest since the previous morning. Pure adrenaline was keeping them going.  
  
Goku remarked grimly, "This fight should have ended long ago."  
  
Trunks, Gohan, and Goten nodded in agreement. The women had finally gone to their respective homes, after Bulma had secured a promise that no one would let Vegeta die.  
  
Goten, not meaning to speak it aloud, said, "Why hasn't it ended?"  
  
Goku glared in concentration. "Both have had opportunities to finish off each other, but they keep holding back. They don't want to kill each other."  
  
At that moment, in the heat of battle, both Vegeta and Jita screamed, "Why did you betray me?!"  
  
Suddenly, they stopped fighting. They stared at each other, breathing heavily. Though no one could tell what had been said, everyone understood that the end was near.  
  
Jita wanted to pass out so badly. Sweat dripped from her body, along with blood from her many wounds. Only her iron will, or maybe stubbornness, prevented her from succumbing to weakness. She suspected that Vegeta felt the same way. The battle had lasted too long, and they both knew the reason. They kept holding back. She kept holding back.  
  
Vegeta straightened from his hunched position and gathered what power he had remaining. "It's time."  
  
Jita straightened and prepared herself. Now was her time - her chance. She prepared herself to use her most powerful attack - something she knew Vegeta had no chance against. Of the warriors, only Goku could see the subtle difference between a regular energy attack and what she was preparing to do.  
  
Vegeta felt a peace about himself. He knew he couldn't kill her with a blast of the last of his energy. He didn't know if she could kill him, but he suddenly understood that she wouldn't. 'She's not like me,' he thought. 'She's - better. She's too smart - too good - to kill me. But if she does, I could only pity her. She's never known - love.' Vegeta felt sorrow. She had known love - for him - but he had ruined it. He realized, for the first time, that he had loved her - his sister - his first real family. He always had. He had to tell her. So he said it, having to use an archaic form of Saiyan. "I love you. And I'm proud of you, my sister."  
  
Jita stopped cold. Was this Vegeta? Her brain was a confused jumble. She realized she could not do it. She could not kill him. She stopped what she was doing and went for an energy attack.  
  
With a scream, both warriors released the blasts - both impressive considering their dwindling energy levels. The two blasts connected - and exploded. The four onlooking Saiyans closed their eyes against the searing brightness. When they were able to look again, they found the barrier down and both Vegeta and Jita laying unconscious on the ground - now reverted to their normal forms.  
  
  
  
  
  
Trunks immediately ran for his father, and felt relief wash over him when he saw Vegeta breathing, albeit weakly. Trunks quickly picked his father up and shot toward Capsule Corp.  
  
Goku, Gohan, and Goten slowly walked to Jita. "She's still alive," declared Goten. The warriors were unsure of what to do with her. Suddenly, they aw her hand move ever so slightly. Gradually, Jita began to awaken. She reached for something in her pocket and pressed a button on it. A spaceship appeared nearby, and the three Saiyans watched as Jita clawed at the battle-scarred ground to reach it - reminding Goku of the struggle of a certain Saiyan prince so many years ago. But the princess couldn't make it. After a moment's struggle, Jita passed out.  
  
Goten regarded the one he had actually considered loving. He had been attracted to her sharp wit and strange beauty - and to find out what - who - she was. She had lied to him - used him in her path to vengeance. He should hate her, and in a way he did. But the story Trunks told of her. It was all so tragic. She never had a chance. And she looked so small and vulnerable now - not even able to crawl a few feet through the dirt.  
  
Goku put a hand on Goten's shoulder. "It's time to go."  
  
Goten jerked away from this gesture of familiarity. Gohan had flown home with without a sound, and now he was left with his father, who was trying to be all comforting. He turned away from his father and looked back at the girl - the princess. He walked to Jita and turned her over. Even in her bruised and bloodied state, she was beautiful. He stooped over and gently picked her up. Ignoring his father's stare, he carried her into the spaceship and carefully laid her on a pallet. He realized he couldn't work any of the technology, but was startled when a robot rolled up to the pallet and began to tend to Jita's injuries. He stubbornly wiped a single tear from his cheek, determined not to show his father, and walked out of the ship. "She'll be all right," was all he could say, and headed for home. 


	13. Its OK

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Second installment. Starting to focus on Goten more. Please review.  
  
  
  
Chapter 13: It's OK  
  
Vegeta slowly opened his eyes as he felt a burst of power inside him. 'Senzu bean,' he realized. As his eyes focused, he realized he was staring at the fluorescent lights of the ceiling in the medic room at Capsule Corp. He turned his head and saw Bulma napping in a chair nearby. 'How long was I out?'  
  
The bed creaked slightly as he was pushing himself up, causing Bulma to jerk awake. "Vegeta? You're alright!"  
  
"Of course I'm alright, woman. Why wouldn't I be?" Vegeta replied softly as Trunks walked into the room.  
  
"Trunks, he's OK!" Bulma exclaimed.  
  
Trunks smiled at his mom. "Of course he is, Mom. I gave him a senzu bean. Besides, he could have healed without it, only slower."  
  
Trunks then directed his gaze at his father. "I talked to Goten. He said she called a spaceship via remote and managed to get in it. She could be anywhere by now." There was no point in saying who 'she' was. Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement and began to walk out of the room.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute," Bulma interjected. "You're not going to look for her, are you?"  
  
Vegeta turned back to look at her. "I already know she's gone. She's orbiting this planet right now, probably working on healing herself. I simply wish some food because I haven't eaten for days."  
  
Bulma remained speechless. Vegeta smirked. She nagged him less whenever he first recovered from a severe beating - another plus for being beaten to a pulp.  
  
  
  
Goten sat outside, staring into space. Bulma had just called with news of Vegeta's recovery. It had been two days since the end of the fight. Two days of misery for Goten. He couldn't get Jita out of his mind. He had gone to school half expecting to see her, but of course she wasn't there. Now he was sitting next to the lake, the ground already healing from the battle, but she was long gone. But how could he miss the girl? For the small amount of time he had known her she had done nothing but lie.  
  
"But she was so beautiful. She was perfect. I know she couldn't have faked that beautiful spirit I saw in her."  
  
"Why am I driving myself crazy? She doesn't love me . . . and I can't love her. I know that. She's Vegeta's sister, for Pete's sake. That would make her old enough to be my mother. She may look young, but she can't be. She's just been dead. And where did she spend her death? Where did she learn to fight like that?"  
  
Goten shook his head violently to clear his mind. He had come out here to escape from his mother's nagging. His grades had slipped a little. Not that they'd ever been near Gohan's, but he wasn't exactly in special ed either. But now he just couldn't concentrate. And he didn't need to nag himself.  
  
And speaking of his mom . . .  
  
"Goten! You haven't opened any of your books! Stop daydreaming and get in here!"  
  
Goten sighted and did as she asked/demanded. 


	14. Truce

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Well, thanks to the reviewers. I'm now finally able to write some more, if these awful professors will stop grouping all my tests into the same week, that is. I'm trying to make my chapters longer, mostly by grouping two together. I did that with the chapter "Final Hour." This chapter will actually be a bit longer. Don't worry. I'll focus more on Goten as time goes on. Oh, and someone tell me if at any time Jita becomes too much of a Mary Sue. I know original characters have a tendency to do that, but I'm trying. Enjoy, and as always, review.  
  
  
  
Chapter 13: Truce  
  
Jita stared at earth from the cockpit of her ship. She had been in orbit for five or so days. She was almost healed, but far from clearing her confused mind. For so long she had one goal in mind: Kill Vegeta. Yet she had not.  
  
It was Earth. What drew great warriors to it - especially Saiyans? The planet wasn't very special. It was rather small, very out of the way, and not very technologically advanced. And it was infested with weaklings. What made this dot in the grand scheme of the things so important that it housed the strongest people in the universe?  
  
'Freedom.'  
  
The thought came unbidden t her. Freedom. The one thing she had thirsted for since childhood. All her life she had resented the servant role of the warrior that was so prevalent in the Cold Empire. But here there were no masters and no minions. The people were free warriors. They could continue to train - raise a family - like Vegeta.  
  
"I must go back to Vegeta. I must learn about this freedom."  
  
And with those words she opened a new life and sealed her fate in the same breath.  
  
  
  
Jita stopped in front of the imposing building of the Briefs residence. She did not feel fear - but there was anticipation. She wasn't sure how Vegeta - or his family - would react. She kept her ki low to avoid detection, but couldn't seem to pinpoint Vegeta's location. She bit her lip, knowing she was risking her pride, and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds, Vegeta's blue-haired mate opened the door. Her smile quickly changed to a look of horror and anger.  
  
"What do you think you're doing here?!" Bulma screeched.  
  
"I wish to see Vegeta," Jita replied calmly, though a little indignance tinged her voice. 'How dare she speak to me in such a manner?'  
  
"Well, if you think you're gonna pick another fight with Vegeta you can just leave right now because you'll have to go through me first. I don't care if you are a Saiyan - or even a Super Saiyan - you don't have the right to come from Kami-know's-where and nearly kill him. You aren't getting near him and that's final."  
  
Jita glared at the other woman with rivaling venom. "Listen, woman. I am not here to kill your mate. I had an opportunity a few days ago and I didn't take it. I came here to call a truce. Now, will you tell me where he is or do I have to give him a reason to kill me."  
  
"I'm right here, Jita."  
  
Vegeta stood just behind Bulma, his face expressionless. Jita set herself and took a step forward, past Bulma. She wanted to say many things to her brother, but the only thing that came to her was the words of their childhood custom. "Truce?"  
  
Vegeta smirked and nodded his head sharply. "Truce."  
  
  
  
  
  
As soon as she landed, Jita noted the striking beauty of the place. The place was almost entirely covered with lush trees, until it came to a small clearing with a pond. The pond was almost unearthly blue and, Jita noted with interest, a perfect oval shape. Looking into the forest, she could see a carnivorous sundew plant. In fact, the jungle looked so dense and dark that the only way to get to the clearing was by flight.  
  
Vegeta was already headed toward the pond. This was the place he always came to whenever he wanted to train - or simply to be - alone. Now he wished to talk with Jita without interruption, and this seemed the perfect place for that purpose.  
  
Both warriors sat facing the pond, and spent a few minutes in uncomfortable silence. Now that they were here, what could they say? How could they begin? Weary of the silence, Jita spoke first.  
  
"I suppose we have a lot to tell each other." 'Wonderful beginning, Jita,' she thought sarcastically. Vegeta grunted in agreement.  
  
Jita smirked. "Very well. I suppose its only fair. I will begin with my story:  
  
"As you know, I died. No real surprise there. Though I guess you never realized I took my body with me."  
  
Vegeta raised his head in surprise.  
  
"I thought not. Well, King Yemma had some difficulty placing me. Though I believe he actually considered sending me to heaven until HE arrived.  
  
Actually, it was a semi-transparent projection of him, which failed to convey the true horror he was. The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell. He offered a chance to train and gain revenge. If I went to heaven I would have to relinquish my body. I chose hell. He trained me for all these years - teaching me to be the perfect warrior. The only thing he demanded was my soul. I wasn't using it at the time, so I gave it to him. Well, I guess that covers it."  
  
Vegeta solemnly absorbed his sister's story. Somehow it didn't surprise him. He cleared his throat. "What happens when you die?"  
  
Jita closed her eyes. When she had decided not to kill Vegeta, she had realized the full consequences of her actions. "I will be sent to hell to face eternal damnation, even if I spend the rest of my life playing the hero and helping old ladies cross streets," she added with a sneer.  
  
The two fell silent for a while, each embroiled in thought. Vegeta asked no more questions. He really wasn't interested in the technical details of her returning to life, and he could guess well enough how she had sensed the only remaining Saiyans on earth after finding the Kold Empire collapsed and Frieza dead. Though she used a more subtle means of exploring earth and the Saiyans than he would have used, it was basically all that he would have done.  
  
After some time, Jita's natural curiosity took over. "I've told you my story. I expect to hear your story in more detail, starting after my death. Though, you could just cover the high points: Frieza, going Super Saiyan, family. I didn't even hear of Frieza's death. I was a bit isolated in hell."  
  
Inwardly Vegeta smiled at the prattling of his younger sister. This reminded him more of when she was the age she looked. Sensing her growing impatience, and deciding to postpone the inevitable argument, he began his story:  
  
"After you died, I had nothing but ambition. I would kill Frieza and attain Super Saiyan, in your name and that of every dead Saiyan. So I trained. I followed orders, killing planet after weakling planet. Frieza must have thought he had broken me, but I was using him as a means to kill him. And I grew stronger, far surpassing most of Frieza's elite. But I just couldn't get strong enough fast enough. And then there was earth.  
  
"Radditz had come here, and died, taking Kakarrot with him."  
  
"But he was watching our fight," Jita interrupted.  
  
Vegeta's eyes lifted to meet hers. "You recognized him. You know, the dead come back to life. It's true."  
  
Jita simply glared. Vegeta collected his thoughts and continued. "A bump in the head had turned Kakarrot into an emotional weakling. Yet he and a Namek managed to kill Radditz, and then brag about dragonballs. I realized this was the perfect opportunity. I would wish for immortality.  
  
"The battle on earth started out pitifully. They had already used the dragonballs to wish back Kakarrot, but he had not arrived, even after waiting three hours. I didn't even deem it worthy for myself to join the fight. Nappa could take care of it. And he DID kill three humans and a Namek. All that was left was a human and a half-Saiyan. But then I had to kill Nappa. Kakarrot had arrived and defeated him easily. Nappa was actually begging for help.  
  
"So Kakarrot and I fought. I almost killed him, though I did have to transform. But then someong cut off my tail."  
  
Jita started laughing in spite of herself. She had had to endure ridicule since birth for her deformity, and now the most respected and feared Saiyan since the first Super Saiyan suffered from the same misfortune as she. Vegeta looked at her sharply much in the same way he had when she was a child. Her laughter quickly ceased.  
  
"The irony has not escaped me. As if it wasn't enough, I was hit by something they called a spirit bomb and clobbered by an Oozaru half-breed." He paused for laughter, but none was forthcoming. "The battle was over, and both Kakarrot and I were beaten nearly to death. And then, he saved me." Vegeta spat out the words with distaste. "One of the weakling humans held a sword to my throat, but Kakarrot let me go. So I went, making it to Frieza's planet. Once I was healed, I heard that Frieza was headed for the dragonballs on Namek ."  
  
He continued the story of the great race for the dragonballs, having some satisfaction of telling of the death of Zarbon, Dodoria, and the Ginyu force - while at the same time having some discomfort telling of his forced alliance with the people from earth and his various defeats. The hardest was telling of his death, and Kakarrot's ascendance to Super Saiyan.  
  
Jita couldn't believe it. "Kakarrot - before you? And he defeated Frieza? Not you?"  
  
Vegeta could only nod. The shame that had dulled over time seemed to cut him anew. He continued the story. Coming back to life. Meeting Bulma. Going Super Saiyan. Trunks. Androids. Cell. Tournament. Trunks death. Kakarrot's death. Cell's defeat at Gohan's hands, as well as his contribution. The seven years of training - and family. Tournament. Kakarrot. Supreme Kai. Buu. The fight with Kakarrot. His death. His return. Fusion (he shuddered more at this part). The defeat of Buu. And the years to follow. His journey was breath-taking. Two deaths. A mate. Children. A home. And he was now not only a Super Saiyan but - a hero.  
  
The two sat there after his tale had ended, saying nothing. There was nothing more to say. They were reconciled - brother and sister once more.  
  
Finally Vegeta got to his feet. "You will stay with us, at Capsule Corp."  
  
"I have a place."  
  
"That is not a request."  
  
Jita shrugged her slim shoulders. "Fine. As you wish, Your Highness," she stated with a sarcastic flourish. 


	15. Welcome Wagon

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Just decided to upload another chapter, because it's fun. And it's around the same time and theme as my previous chapter. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 14: Welcome Wagon  
  
Jita stared at the clothing Vegeta's mate - Bulma, the woman had insisted - had provided, her face showing disgust and disbelief. Bulma was reluctant in her welcome, but she gave her a room and some clothes to replace Jita's own worn garments. Jita realized this was a gesture of good will, but . pink?  
  
With a barely audible sigh of relief, Jita realized this wasn't the only thing in the closet. Jita quickly assembled a black outfit with a little blue mixed in. She then sprayed her hair and dried it instantly with a tiny bit of ki.  
  
"You will keep your hair clean and styled, as is befitting your status in the royal elite."  
  
Jita shuddered at the sudden memory of her father. Vegeta had grown up to look so much like their father. 'This line of thought will lead me nowhere. Focus on the present for now. Analyze."  
  
Analyze. Yes. An experiment. She would live here and experiment with the life of being a master-less warrior - to see if it suited her. This life had the risk of weakness, and if she found it to ultimately lead to weakness, she still had her spaceship. Nowadays there were limited opportunities for warriors, especially Saiyans, but she could always find something.  
  
'Besides, this life is all I have.'  
  
Jita knew exactly what her fate was, after death. Hell. Unspeakable torment. Unending torture. 'I have to live before I die.'  
  
  
  
Bulma glared at her husband. "Why did you invite her to stay?"  
  
Vegeta's face remained neutral. He had been expecting this. "She didn't have a place to stay," he answered her levelly.  
  
"You know what I mean. She came to kill you! And now everything's fine?"  
  
Vegeta's face set into his usual scowl. "I came here to kill everyone, and it wasn't even personal. My being alive is just an accident."  
  
"That's not the same thing," Bulma protested.  
  
"You think she deserves less of a chance than I got, woman?"  
  
Bulma's glare met and rivaled Vegeta's. He was right, of course. But all she could think about was how much she distrusted this new woman. This woman who had attacked her child without a thought. Who had run a sword through her Vegeta. And having that monster in her house, around her children.  
  
"I don't have to stay here."  
  
Bulma whirled around. Jita was standing in the doorway, arms folded and scowl in place. However, a strange look was in the Saiyan girl's eyes, one that she had seen in Vegeta's eyes. It was a sort of haunted and lost look, as if suddenly her whole tragic life had caught up with her, and she was feeling all the pain she had experienced herself and doled out to others. As she was looking at Jita, Bulma's conscience, which always sounded like Goku, urged her, 'Take her in. She will change just like Vegeta.'  
  
"No. You don't have a place to stay, and we have plenty of room. Besides, you're - family."  
  
Bulma saw a sliver of relief in Jita's eyes. Bulma was by no means convinced, but this new addition couldn't possibly go against five Saiyans, so everyone was relatively safe. However, Bulma just couldn't stand to be around the girl any longer. With a half-hearted smile, she turned on her heel and walked into her lab, locking herself in.  
  
Jita cocked her head. "She's as unpredictable as a changeling."  
  
Vegeta snickered and looked up toward the east. "Well, here's something a little more predictable."  
  
As if on cue, Goku, Gohan, and Trunks dropped out of the sky. Goku had one of those dead serious looks that he gets when he senses a threat, and Gohan and Trunks sported matching glares. Jita regarded their approach with an unreadable expression. "Well, here's the welcome wagon."  
  
Gohan growled and said, "What are you doing back? Other than lie and kill again."  
  
Jita's eyes widened, then narrowed. "My business here is my concern. And I will not be addressed in such a manner. I am the Saiyan princess."  
  
Trunks pointedly ignored the princess. "Dad, is she alright?"  
  
As Vegeta nodded his head, Trunks relaxed visibly. Of all people, he trusted his father's word the most. Trunks gave Jita a slightly guarded smile and walked into the house."  
  
Gohan, however, was not convinced. Showing a darker side of himself, he folded his arms and glared harder. "For as long as I can remember, a full Saiyan coming to earth has been trouble - Radditz, Brolli, Nappa - and even you, Vegeta. All are dead except one. And all brought death with them - including you, Princess. That was my daughter you almost killed out there. I know I can't tell you to stay or go, but if you make even one wrong move, I'll kill you." With that, Gohan flew away in a burst of angry speed, leaving his father alone with the two Saiyan royals.  
  
Vegeta's gaze focused on his long-time rival. "What about you, Kakarrot? Any questions or ultimatums? Is there anything you want to do to make this harder? Go ahead! No one is stopping you."  
  
Goku was taken aback by Vegeta's barely disguised hurt tone. Apparently this entire situation was getting under his skin. Goku gave a small smile. "I only wanted to see if there was any trouble. Now I see there isn't, I'm kind of embarrassed about all the fuss." Goku's smile widened into his usual grin as he addressed Jita. "H! I'm Goku. I guess you're here to stay for a while, huh?"  
  
Jita's eyes widened in shock, and she gave Vegeta a sideways glance, as if to say 'Is he for real?" "So, you're Kakarrot?"  
  
Goku scratched the back of his head and laughed a little. "I guess. That's what Vegeta calls me, but everybody else calls me Goku. Listen, I'm sorry for what my son said. He gets like this when he stop training regularly. Well, I guess I'd better get back home. Chichi's almost finished making dinner." He hovered a few feet off the ground.  
  
"Wait," Jita interjected, bringing Goku to a halt. "Why did your other son not come?"  
  
Goku shrugged. "Goten? I guess he didn't want to."  
  
  
  
Goten watched the exchange from a distance, keeping his ki strictly suppressed. Every reaction had been predictable. Trunks trusted his father too much to doubt him. Gohan had gone through too much in his short life to be readily accepting. And Dad - was Dad. He would always give everyone at least one chance. As for himself -  
  
Goten didn't know what to think. He was still very attracted to Jita. Just thinking about her sent his thoughts and hormones racing. But her perfection had soured. And now he couldn't hate her - or love her.  
  
He took one last look and left, wishing to leave behind his pain - and his love. 


	16. Relics

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviews. Sorry I couldn't get this out sooner. Weekends and tests are from the devil. Anyway, we're getting into the part without much action and with much more angst. Interesting things happening. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 15: Relics  
  
Jita surveyed her new room at Capsule Corp with satisfaction. It had taken some doing, but she had finally gotten the room arranged the way she liked it. Not since she lived on the planet Vegeta had she actually had a living space. Her time in Frieza's elite had mostly been spent in space pods, bunkers, and - cells. And her time in hell . . .  
  
She broke off her reverie sharply. She saw her brother in the doorway, rooted to the spot in amazement.  
  
Decorating the room were actual Saiyan relics. Ornate boxes. Wooden carved murals. Curved blades. Ancient armor. The bones of ancestral monarchs and great warriors. And among the relics were mementos of the two Saiyans' youth. Vegeta drew out of his trance. "So you went back." He was referring to the place they had agreed to save everything. It was an unassuming planet of - strangely - historians. The species had fallen out of favor when they refused to change history to suit Frieza. Jita made it seem like the planet had been purged and rendered uninhabitable. In return, the historians held their relics in safety. Jita noticed that Vegeta had gone back sometime after her death to make one last deposit of everything they owned. Imagine how the historians felt when a dead girl came to collect her things.  
  
A picture caught Vegeta's eyes. It was a picture taken at one of the planets before purging it. Vegeta had just turned sixteen, and they were all feeling whimsical. The picture was subtitled 'Survivors.' Radditz was in the back, grinning in a slightly less naïve version of Kakarrot's grin. Vegeta was in front of Radditz, smirking with his arms crossed. Nappa was smirking as well, putting his hand on Jita's head, who was glaring and scowling in protest at his silent attest to her height. In the bottom left- hand corner was a small baby picture of Kakarrot - an addition Radditz had insisted upon. "Survivors," Vegeta commented sardonically. He remembered the years when he had been the only survivor, after Cell. Only the woman and the demi-Saiyans had saved him from crushing loneliness. Those years had nearly driven him crazy. All those years that he couldn't feel the Saiyans in his head. He was telepathic only with full Saiyans. Now, ever since Buu, the telepathic void had only been filled by Kakarrot. But not .  
  
Vegeta shook himself out of his reverie, put down the picture, and led Jita out of the room. He had yet to show her the gravity room . 


	17. A Slightly OneEnded Conversation

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Just another short chapter to go along with the previous short chapter. Enjoy, and review.  
  
  
  
Chapter 16: A Slightly One-Ended Conversation  
  
Jita walked out of her room after another shower and change. (Vegeta's tour of his home had begun and ended at the gravity room.) From there she walked outside to the green expanse of the yard. She stood there, staring at the sunset and thinking out her experiment, when she realized someone was watching her. With fluid movement unknown in most children, a miniature replica of Bulma jumped from the highest branch of a tree and skipped her way over to the Saiyan woman. The girl looked up with her impossibly blue eyes and said, "HI!"  
  
Jita was slightly taken aback by the child's greeting. "Hello," was all she could think to say, yet this word seemed to be catalyst for a torrent of words from the child's mouth.  
  
"You must be my new aunt. I'm Bra. I've never had an aunt before. Trunks told me a little about you. I don't think it's so weird that you're here. Lotsa people die. And lots of 'em are alive. Trunks 'n Goten 'n Mommy. Daddy died twice. Lotsa people died twice. I haven't died, 'cept you almost killed me. That's ok, though. Daddy's a prince. Does that make you a princess? I thought princesses were supposed to be beautiful and wear pretty dresses. But you're not really beautiful and you're wearing pants. Do you like fighting? I guess you do 'cause you fought Daddy. I like to fight a little, but not as much as the others. I may learn someday. I don't know. I do know how to fly. I learned 'cause its neat, but Mommy doesn't like it when I fly too high. You know what? I ."  
  
"Bra!"  
  
Bra whipped her head around at her mother's call. "Coming, Mommy! Bye," she said brightly to Jita.  
  
'Strange child,' Jita thought. 'Imagine not liking to fight.'  
  
  
  
"Would you believe what they put us through?!" Trunks slammed the calculus book into his bookbag. He growled in frustration as the book ripped through the bag and made a small crack in the floor.  
  
"Yeah, well, some of us didn't study this when we were ten."  
  
Trunks stared in surprise at the usually mellow and good-natured Goten. At least, usual until a month ago. Trunks decided to try to talk to him about it - again. But then he stopped short. It always went the same way:  
  
T: Why don't you talk to her?  
  
G: No.  
  
T: Give her a chance.  
  
G: No.  
  
T: It's been a month (or whatever).  
  
G: *shrugs*  
  
T: Is it because you still like her?  
  
G: I don't like her. I don't want to see her. And if you don't stop pestering me, I'll do my best impression of your dad by ki-blasting you into the next dimension.  
  
T: Fine. Whatever. I really don't care. And you couldn't do that to me anyway.  
  
End conversation. Ensuing argument and/or fight optional.  
  
Trunks picked a capsule out of his now-demolished bookbag, decapsulated another, and kept his mouth shut. 


	18. Milestone

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Finishing my 3-chapter update. It may be another week before I'm able to update. I'm thinking of doing it that way, because I'm running out of already-written story. And I have to write my Nappa fic. Anyway, enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 17: A Milestone  
  
Vegeta scowled in obvious discomfiture. The auditorium was packed to the rafters, and somehow he'd let the woman steer him to the middle instead of his preferred place off to the sides. Being here made him feel like 'everyone else,' something he knew not to be true.  
  
The dull roar of the crowd came to an abrupt halt when a tall overweight man stood behind the podium. The man waited for utter silence and - deciding that the atmosphere was respectful enough - boomed into the microphone in a voice he seemed to think was welcoming. Vegeta turned him out until the man's words truly caught his interest. "And now this year's valedictorian will give an address."  
  
Trunks strode over to the podium. While he did look decidedly silly in the robe and mortarboard, in a way he had never looked more dignified. Vegeta had rarely felt more pride in another, and Trunks had rarely felt more anxiety. He could face down the toughest and strongest of opponents without hesitation, yet he quaked at the thought of speaking in front of the entire city and not making a fool of himself. After taking a deep breath, he gripped his note cards and began. "My fellow students, faculty, family, and friends. Thank you all for coming ."  
  
  
  
Jita watched from the outside, her excellent vision and hearing catching every detail of Trunks' speech. She knew the Son family would be there, and she just wasn't in the mood for another awkward scene. She was an outsider and she liked it.  
  
But she hadn't been able to stay away. She felt ties to these people, and even if none of them really accepted her, she knew she could never be alone again. She had already been alone for - too long.  
  
So she watched as the two men received their diplomas and entered the adult world. She smiled wryly as she heard the cheers for each of them, Kakarrot being the loudest. Her eyes lingered on Goten. She hadn't even seen him since the fight with Vegeta. That had brought an abrupt halt to their relationship. 'Was I really just using him? He is rather handsome, and charming in his own way. He is a Saiyan - moody like most Saiyans. But . what am I saying? He's young enough to be my son. And he's too much like his father.'  
  
That's why she'd come here. To see him. It was foolish and useless and didn't she have better things to do? She gritted her teeth in disgust with herself - and left immediately, believing no one had known of her silent vigil. She was completely unaware of the dark eyes watching her from among the graduates - eyes filled with hurt - and anger.  
  
  
  
"Mom, I'm going to the local university and that's final."  
  
"But, Trunks. There are so many opportunities. You've been accepted to every school in the country."  
  
And yet again the pushy Bulma and the stubborn Trunks locked horns about his future. Its not that Bulma was truly opposed to the local university. It was actually one of the best in the country. And Trunks wasn't truly opposed to any other university. But once they found something to argue about, they weren't going to let it go until they truly wore it out. Jita was amused at this bantering. One thing Vegeta had brought to this family was the love of argument, opposition, challenge . in essence, fighting. She and Vegeta used to argue all the time, and still did.  
  
As soon as there was a lapse in the heated discussion, Jita surprised everyone, including herself, by speaking. "What is this . university?"  
  
"It's the Chikyuu University, one of the best in the country," Trunks piped in, leaving Jita no more enlightened.  
  
Sensing Jita's discomfiture, Bulma stepped in. "It's a place of learning after high school. It helps people get a better career."  
  
Jita was intrigued, to say the least. A place of learning. She loved learning, and was always frustrated when studies were denied her beyond the basics. Too much of her life had been spent molding her into the perfect warrior.  
  
But now - she was free.  
  
She cleared her throat and again ventured forth a question. "What is required to attend this place of learning?"  
  
Bulma shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze of her sister-in-law. "Well . prior education - and records of it . um . tuition - a lot of money . and identification, too," she ended in a small voice.  
  
Jita stared down at her plate, hating the look of disappointment that she knew was on her own face and the looks of pity given by Bulma and Trunks. Vegeta's expression, as usual, was unreadable.  
  
Then Bulma brightened. "Hey! I've been meaning to give you an identity anyway. It's really rather easy. A lot of people have been born and grown up below radar. There are programs for that. I did the same for Vegeta. Once you have identification and pass an entrance exam, they can't deny you admittance!"  
  
Jita's eyes filled with hope, then doubt, and finally stubbornness. "I don't have money." Bulma almost voiced a dismissal of that worry, but Jita's eyes flashed. "I'm too much indebted to you already." She spat out the word 'indebted' as if it were poison.  
  
And without any further words, Jita left the table of pity and flew out of the house.  
  
  
  
"Goten?"  
  
Goten barely acknowledged his father's presence. He knew this would be yet another awkward attempt at father-son bonding. This same pattern had been going on for a long time - well, when Goku was around, and not off training. Goten was reminded of the Crocodile Hunter going on walkabouts. Or was that Dundee?  
  
"Son?" Goku tried again tentatively.  
  
"Yeah, Dad," he sighed in frustration. "What is it?"  
  
Goku sat down next to the boy. The sun was setting, leaving red and orange splashed angrily across the sky. It reminded Goten of how he had imagined his father's death for seven years - the orange gi stained with red blood - the agony of death and leaving his family. When he had been happily traveling the afterlife, giving up all chances to come home, refusing to see his own son.  
  
Goku took in a deep breath, as if drawing up his courage. Pretty ironic for a guy who had faced battle after battle to be nervous about a talk with his son. "I want to know what's going on with you. I'm worried."  
  
"Nothing's going on with me." 'And even if I told you, you wouldn't understand.'  
  
"Goten, whatever it is, I'll understand."  
  
Goten shrugged. And with that cavalier dismissal, Goku gave up. If Goten had looked up, he would have seen the carefree expression of his father be replaced by a look of worry - and regret. 


	19. A Business Deal

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Well, glad to seeFF.net up and running again. Down the weekend I planned on updating. Oh, well. OK, I know the next two chapters are relatively short, but I think this next chapter is somewhat cool, and I didn't want to put anything after it in this installment. Thanks to my faithful reviewers Omega and Anonymous Cat. Hope ya'll enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 18: A Business Deal  
  
  
  
"Mrs. Briefs. Someone to see you."  
  
Bulma sighed in frustration. 'Too much paperwork. Can't see anyone. Too much paperwork.' "I told you to hold all calls and I wasn't to be disturbed."  
  
"Mrs. Briefs, this individual is rather insist - no, wait!"  
  
The door flew open, and Bulma was astonished to see, of all people, her sister-in-law stride in. 'Well, I was looking for a diversion from this torture.' "Jita. This is a surprise. Though I don't understand why you didn't just wait until I got home to talk."  
  
Jita assumed an expression that was utterly calm and aloof - one that seemed to be common in royalty. "I have observed on this planet that business matters are rarely discussed at a private home."  
  
"Business?" It was as if Jita had just started speaking in iambic pentameter, or Saiyan.  
  
"It has to do with this tuition. The identification you have provided has proven most useful. I took the entrance exams two weeks ago, and I received a letter today informing me of my admittance to the Chikyuu University. I joined the four-year program to achieve a bachelor's degree in liberal arts. I spent some time calculating the cost of four years of school and, though the amount is considerable, I have a solution."  
  
Bulma was amazed at the woman's resourcefulness. Vegeta had never adjusted to life on earth to this degree. "And - you need me?"  
  
"Yes. Tell me, are you interested in different technology?"  
  
Bulma lit up. "Why, of course! What do you think we do here?"  
  
Jita smirked. "What would my spaceship be worth to you?"  
  
  
  
Jita opened the hatch to the sight of a group of technicians with Bulma at the lead, practically drooling over their new toy. As the technicians devoured this new technology, Jita headed over to the gravity chamber. Vegeta was there, as usual.  
  
"You sold your ship." It was not a question.  
  
Jita began her warm-up exercises. "I needed the money."  
  
"Since when do you need money?"  
  
"Since I moved to this money-driven planet."  
  
That was one interesting thing Jita had discovered. To survive in the earth society, money was required. One must buy freedom. It seemed contradictory, and rather discouraging, but she played the game.  
  
"What if you want to leave?" Vegeta interrupted her thoughts.  
  
After a moment's consideration, Jita replied, "There's always the Dragonballs. I suppose wishing for a ship wouldn't be beyond the dragon's power."  
  
The two remained silent for a while. "You always did like to study," Vegeta broke the silence.  
  
Jita laughed slightly. "I'll never forget how angry you'd get when I hid my books in your quarters."  
  
Chuckling softly, Vegeta asked, "Tell me. What are you planning on studying at this university?"  
  
"Well, anything I can. You know I've always wanted to read . . . and research."  
  
"Yes, I know," Vegeta shot her a pointed glance. Jita winced uncomfortably, and it wasn't because of the gravity. 


	20. Boiling Point

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Big Goten chapter. Enjoy, and as always, review.  
  
  
  
Chapter 19: Boiling Point  
  
"When are you going to tell them, Goten?" Trunks scowled at his friend. Chichi and Bulma were excitedly assembling the 'going-to-college' party on the lawn behind Capsule Corp. The guests would be arriving in half an hour and the women were in a flurry of happy activity. Their boys were going to college.  
  
At least, they thought they were.  
  
Goten felt terrible. He hadn't had the heart to tell his mother, but he just didn't want to go to college. It just wasn't for him. He wanted to devote his life to training, and he didn't see how college could help him. But Chichi had her heart set on him becoming as successful as Gohan was and Trunks would become. So, he'd lied to her.  
  
Before Goten could answer Trunks question, he heard Bra shriek and call out to her best friend, Pan. So that meant . . .  
  
"Hi, Dad! Hi, Goten!" Gohan ran up to them, barely avoiding Videl's fate of being snatched up by his mother. "Hi, Trunks. How are the college men?"  
  
Trunks smiled in greeting, and Goten attempted a smile. "Great! Couldn't be better!" came Goten's falsely cheerful reply. It was, however, convincing.  
  
Soon Krillen, Eighteen, and Marron arrived. Krillen and Goku, having not seen each other since Master Roshi's funeral, started catching up. Marron was a few years older than Pan and Bra, but she could get along with both well enough. Eighteen and Videl started talking, having formed a friendship after a fashion. Tien hadn't been able to make it, and Yamcha tended to avoid get-togethers at Capsule Corp. As for Piccolo, he tended to avoid all get-togethers.  
  
However, one unsociable person hadn't been able to avoid coming. Vegeta realized he had mellowed since even ten years before, much as the though made bile rise in his throat, but he still couldn't seem to participate in these inane human rituals. He contented himself with thoughts of challenging someone to a spar later on, just to preserve what was left of his sanity.  
  
'Bulma told Jita to come,' Vegeta thought, realizing she was probably still in the gravity room. This party was slightly for her, too. Which was probably why she was avoiding it. Though maybe she was better off staying clear. The others had gotten used to Vegeta's silent presence, but with Jita it could be too awkward.  
  
But Jita seemed to be adjusting almost too well to life on earth. She had gotten into a university and even landed a part-time job. 'Just for the experience,' she had said. It had still unnerved him to see the princess of all Saiyans, one of the strongest individuals in the universe, waiting tables.  
  
Another strange thing was the way Jita had gotten Gohan to accept her. That summer Bra and Pan had spent most of their time together. More often than not, Jita watched them when they were at Capsule Corp. Gohan had been uneasy about this unusual, and half-way unwilling, babysitter, but Pan had come home with so many exciting stories she heard from Jita. Gohan had rather gotten used to the princess, and even sparred with her once. Not that he could beat her. He was really out of practice.  
  
"Hey! Is that Jita?" Krillen said, breaking Vegeta's reverie.  
  
Goku laughed. "Yeah. I heard those girls never leave her alone." And sure enough, Pan and Bra, now accompanied by Marron, had once again captured the princess by their pleas for a story. Jita was now sitting on the grass with the three chibis following her every word.  
  
"Ya know," Krillen continued, "I still don't understand why I didn't sense that fight. No one did."  
  
Trunks brought over a cooler of Cokes. "I've been thinking about that. I think the energy barrier she put up disrupted the ki signatures."  
  
Goten ignored the others. There she was, big as life, telling a story to children, just as if nothing had ever happened. She hadn't even acknowledged him. Had she just forgotten him? Or was he just a means to her goal, now to be disposed of.  
  
The party went on for some time. The food was eaten and the sun was setting. Trunks had pulled out his new laptop to show off. Goku and Vegeta were making plans to spar in a little while. Bulma started up a game of cards with Chichi, Videl, and Eighteen. Jita had not escaped the chibis and was still telling Saiyan stories, ranging from the ancient to her own recollections. Gohan and Krillen were halfway listening to the stories, intrigued by the depth of the Saiyan culture.  
  
And Goten was still lost in his dark thoughts.  
  
"Goten?" Goku broke into his thoughts.  
  
'Oh, crap. Here we go again.' Goten really wasn't in the mood.  
  
"What's wrong, son? Tired of the party?"  
  
Goku fully expected Goten to put up at least a front of happiness. Or say something noncommittal. Or talk to someone else. Or make a joke at his expense. Or ignore him.  
  
Not an explosion.  
  
"Just stop it!"  
  
A shocked silence fell over the party. That couldn't be right. Goten was a good-natured boy, so like his carefree father. The father he had definitely yelled at.  
  
"Goten, I . . ." Goku began.  
  
"Just stop it!" Goten repeated. "Stop trying to be my pal! Stop trying to help me out! Stop trying to relate to me! I'm sick of it!"  
  
Chichi was rather sick of it too. "Now listen here, young man. You will NOT speak to your father that way. I spent a lot of time getting together this 'going-to-college' party . . ."  
  
"I'm not going to college!" Goten interrupted, this time, for once, leaving Chichi speechless. "I'm not going to college. I'm sorry, Mom, but I never applied. I just couldn't tell you."  
  
Goku approached his son, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Goten, why didn't . . ."  
  
"NO!" Goten jerked away. "Don't talk to me like that! Don't talk to me like you care, because I know you don't!"  
  
There are limits to everyone, including Goku. He was now resolved not to be interrupted. He faced his son, his face hardening into a steely raptor gaze, as if he were facing an opponent in a life-or-death match. Only more was at stake now. "Goten, I've tried to reach out to you in every way I know how. You block me every time. You can't blame me there. The problem isn't college, or me. What is it?"  
  
Goten found it hard to retain his indignance under his father glare. Everyone thought his father was so perfect. Well, he wasn't. "You know, every time you've reached out to me, or talked to me, I can only think of all those years that I couldn't imagine why you would choose the afterlife over being with your family. Did you even know I was born? No, you were happily skipping along Snake Way. I can only think about the pain Mom and Gohan went through, especially when I looked exactly like you, and how they tried to hide it from me." Goten fought back the tears burning in his eyes as he poured out the years of resentment from his soul. "I can only think of when I was told that my brother was dead, and my best friend was told that his father was dead, and when we had the audacity to feel a little grief, all you could do was yell at us to shut up, and then ask what was wrong when we were angry. And then leave. All I can think about is all those years you were alive, but spent your time away from home, training, months - YEARS - on end. The whole father-son bonding thing, it was too little too late. Well, you won't have to make up for lost time, or inconvenience yourself in any way on my account. I may not bee off to college, but I'm leaving anyway. Just don't follow me, and we'll get along fine."  
  
And, true to his word, he left. All that was heard from him after that was a packed room and a note Chichi found on his bed:  
  
  
  
Dear Mom,  
  
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cause you any pain. I feel terrible because I know I have. I know you always wanted me and Dad to get along, but I just couldn't. I'm sorry I can't go to college. I know you always wanted me to become a scholar like Gohan, but I can't. I can't be like Gohan. I can't be like anyone. I guess I've lived too long around all these legends, people not only powerful in strength, but in deed. Even Trunks, because of Mirai. I guess I just feel like I'm living in everyone's shadows. I have to find out who I am by myself, and then I'll be able to respect myself.  
  
Send my love to Gohan and Pan. Love you, Mom.  
  
Your son, Goten 


	21. A Psycho

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, Hitler, Britney Spears (thank God), or Jimi Hendrix.  
  
Author's Notes: Decided to leave you with this little chapter before I run off for the weekend. Trying to break up the angst with some humor. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 20: The Psycho  
  
Jita walked up the stairs to her room, cappuccino in hand. To anyone else she looked like a normal, though slightly too intense, college student. She went to class, stayed up late, drank a lot of coffee, ate a lot, and generally spent most of her time reading or writing. But her roommate, Hannah, knew better.  
  
Jita was a psycho.  
  
Not just a uniquely individualistic anti-society liberal that fit in so well at college. No. She was an honest-to-goodness 'I-will-eat-your- children' psycho.  
  
Oh, she might deceive you at first with her quiet ways, but Hannah knew better.  
  
It had all started on the first night. Hannah had attempted to be friendly, and Jita had seemed pleasant, if somewhat distant. They had divided the room well enough, and neither of them seemed overly messy.  
  
And then it happened.  
  
Hannah was going over some of her textbooks, proud of herself for buying them ahead of time, when she decided the room was too quiet. It was missing . . . music. That was it. So . . . she popped in her Britney Spears CD, and cranked it up, but not too loud.  
  
She slowly got the creeped out feeling of eyes on her. Jita was staring at her, glaring. "What the hell it that awful noise?"  
  
Now, this was not exactly complimentary. But Hannah didn't want trouble on the first night, so she let it pass. "Oh, it's Britney Spears. I love her music. It's so . . . upbeat."  
  
Friendliness seemed to be an alien concept to the girl, for she was still glaring. "That isn't music. Turn it off, and I'll play you music."  
  
OK, this response was a bit terse, but at least Jita was opening up a little, so Hannah paused her CD to hear this 'real music.'  
  
Next thing she heard was the harshest mixture of guitar chords she'd ever experienced. How could that be music? She asked Jita just that.  
  
"Jimi Hendrix is the best guitar player in the universe, of all time. Believe me, I know."  
  
Hannah just shook her head. She was irritated by the rudeness and the music. "Well, I don't like it." Then Hannah unpaused her CD and turned it up to tune Jimi out.  
  
Jita yelled over the din. "Hey! I said turn that off!"  
  
Hannah returned her glare. "I'll play this if I want! You can't tell me what to do!"  
  
Jita simply stared ahead and walked over to Hannah. For one terrible moment, Hannah believed Jita was going to attack her. The glare. The raised fist. The mad glint in her eyes. Instead, she put her fist through the CD player, cutting "Hit Me Baby One More Time" short and leaving Hannah paralyzed in fear. Then Jita stomped out of the room, leaving Hannah alone with the last chords of "Purple Haze."  
  
Yes, that was when Hannah knew. Never mind that Jita had coldly apologized that same night, and had bought her a new CD player and CD. Hannah didn't even dare play it without headphones. She was afraid of ending up like the first CD player.  
  
'Just a few more weeks and I can move in with someone else.'  
  
'If I live that long.'  
  
A few more weeks and she could finally breathe easy and sleep in peace. Not that she had nightmares. Oh, no. One had to sleep in order to have dreams of any kind. No, she got no sleep. For the psycho had nightmares. Every night. And tended to yell in her sleep. Something about torture, rape, and death. And killing and bleeding. And freezers. What a sicko.  
  
As Jita entered the room, Hannah hastily gathered up her books and practically flew out the door.  
  
Jita watched her go, bemused. "It is considerate of her to give me such privacy. And even planning on moving so I could have the room to myself. I guess I won't kill her."  
  
Having made that decision, Jita pulled out a book she had borrowed from the library. It looked like an interesting read. Sitting cross-legged on her bed and taking a sip of cappuccino, she began to read:  
  
"Mein Kampf."  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thank to all my reviewers: Omega (I'm getting to the romance. Be patient), Anonymous Cat, The Sh33p, and tim333 (thank you for your concise review. I did write some things that covered what you criticized, but I edited them and didn't realize that the editing left some holes. I'm working on ways to correct it. Anyone, read tim333's "Krillen: Only Human". It's great.)  
  
Until next time. 


	22. Peace

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Did y'all like last chapter? Thanks to my reviewers Omega and Anonymous Cat. One long chapter this time.  
  
  
  
Chapter 21: Peace  
  
Jita walked into the room, consciously reminding herself to drop her guard. She still tried to react to every bump and jostle as an attack. And that wouldn't do.  
  
The class was Philosophy, and she wasn't sure of what to expect. What would these humans expect from her? Philosophy was fascinating, but she'd said things in class discussions before that made everyone edge away from her. What was so wrong with killing if it was done for survival purposes, anyway?  
  
Jita sat and pulled her books out. The back rows had already been taken, so she had to get a seat on the front row. That was alright with her.  
  
"Alright, class. This is Intro. to Philosophy. If you're not taking this class, you're in the wrong classroom."  
  
Jita's head jerked up at the sound of the familiar voice. It couldn't be. Neither Kami nor any other god would subject her to this. Yet, there he was: Professor Gohan Son, in a conservative outfit that couldn't quite conceal his well-defined muscles, making the contrast with his horn-rimmed glasses ludicrous. He was making a show of struggling with the large stack of books, when long years of strength training, as well as studying, had made that action second-nature to him. She couldn't understand why he so strictly not only controlled, but concealed his strength.  
  
"Well, since this is such a small class, why don't we all introduce ourselves - tell where we're from, our major, hobbies - just something interesting to remember. I'd like all of you do know each other to make the class discussions more interesting. I'll start. My name is Gohan Son, I live in here in Satan City. I have a degree in philosophy, as well as physics - which I teach a few more classes in. Now, I think we'll start over here . . . oh, hello, Jita. I didn't know you where in here."  
  
Jita crossed her arms, not liking the idea of this 'introduction.' "I got in this class late."  
  
Gohan laughed. "Alright, why don't you start?"  
  
Jita sighed in frustration and stood. She really didn't like doing this. She was tempted to embarrass Gohan by telling all about him, but he might do the same for her, and she wasn't sure how far he would go. She liked to keep a low profile among the humans. "My name, as you can guess, is Jita - no last name. Never needed one. Where I'm from is none of your concern. When I'm not living in Saunders Hall, I live at Capsule Corp. I have a double major in English and Philosophy, and my hobbies are reading and fighting. That is all you need know."  
  
As Jita sat down, she felt the class eyeing her. She'd done it yet again - alienated (ironic word) everyone around her. But right now, she just didn't care. She was too busy watching Gohan trying to keep from laughing. "OK, Jita, that's good enough. Umm, Joanna, why don't you go next?"  
  
Jita turned around in her desk to see her former roommate pale. Not only was the poor girl having a class with the person she feared most, her professor was acquainted with the psycho. Joanna was not having a good day. She was able to squeak out her name and major, and hastily sat, wanting to escape Jita's gaze.  
  
The class went by rapidly, and Jita was intrigued by the extent of Gohan's knowledge, as well as his personality in front of a class. He never exuded so much confidence in regular life, or even in battle. He passed out the syllabus, went through a quick overview, and let the class out ten minutes early.  
  
Jita was packing her books, but her ears couldn't help picking up a certain conversation in the back of the classroom.  
  
"What's up with that chick Dr. Son knows?"  
  
"Ugh. She was my roommate, but I got out of that soon as I could. The chick's a psycho - seriously disturbed. I won't get within ten feet of her. She might try to bite me, or something."  
  
"Sounds freaky. Hey, maybe if she does bite me, I could get out of this class."  
  
The laughter faded into the hallway, and Jita was left standing there, forgetting about her books. That conversation disturbed her more than she liked.  
  
"Jita? Are you alright?"  
  
Jita snapped out of her thoughts, and zipped up her bookbag. "Yeah, I'm fine, Gohan. Why wouldn't I be fine?"  
  
Gohan smiled through his concerned look. "You know, I'm glad you're in this class. You'll bring a fresh perspective to this class. I get so tired of hearing the same things from sheltered college students. It'll be different."  
  
Jita looked at him levelly. "Why? Because I'm twenty years your senior?"  
  
"Heh, no. I've taught older people before. That's no problem. I've just never taught a Saiyan princess before."  
  
For once, Jita laughed. "And never will again, I'll bet." She picked up her bag and slung in over her back, preparing to walk to her next class."  
  
"Oh, Jita?" Jita turned back to face Gohan. "Don't worry about what those others say. Closeminded people like that are the first to wash out or fail this class. Don't pay attention to them."  
  
He was thinking she needed reassuring, like a child. This would not do. "I don't pay attention to what others think about me. And I AM older and stronger than you. I am not one of these children. Don't try to coddle me."  
  
Jita knew her tone was harsh, but Gohan seemed to take it in stride. Maybe he'd grown so used to these responses from Vegeta, that it just didn't phase him anymore. But it just made him look smug, and that just made Jita even angrier. Before she could start an unproductive argument, she turned from his sympathetic smile and left.  
  
*****  
  
"Kakarrot!"  
  
Jita landed outside of the Son house, intent on sparring with the man. Vegeta and Trunks were unavailable, and she needed to let out some stem, i.e. pound someone's face.  
  
Instead of the disgustingly cheerful and equally powerful man, Chichi stepped out of the house. "He's not here right now."  
  
For the first time in many years, Jita childishly stamped her foot in frustration, sending quake-like tremors in the immediate area.  
  
Chichi regained her footing and suddenly desperately didn't want the other woman to leave. The loneliness was getting to her, now that Goten was gone and Pan was back in school. "Hey, do you want coffee, or tea? I've got a kettle on the stove."  
  
Jita was surprised to find herself accepting this offer. The only alternatives were (a) study or (b) train by herself. It seemed Jita was equally lonely and equally crazy.  
  
Jita had never been in the house, and she was struck by how neat it was, compared to the living quarters at Capsule Corp. It seemed Chichi had nothing else to do but clean house . . . and make superb tea.  
  
The tea had a calming effect on Jita, and she began to relax. She realized she had been tense - too tense. In body and mind. Now, for the first time in a while, she could breathe easily.  
  
Uncomfortable with human pleasantries, all Jita could say was, "This is well-made tea."  
  
Chichi smiled. "Thank you. I'm never sure. The boys would always gulp it down before they could even taste it." The smile melted, revealing a tired, middle-aged woman. Jita shifted uncomfortably, not sure of what to say. 'I'm about Chichi's age,' she realized.  
  
Chichi seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. "So, how's . . . um . . ." What? School . . . job . . . training . . . life?  
  
Jita smiled sardonically. "Do you realize people get fired for yelling at customers?"  
  
This struck Chichi as strangely hilarious, making her laugh more than she had in a while. She was surprised to see Jita shaking silently with laughter.  
  
Chichi regained her composure, but didn't lose her good humor. "I don't see how you made time for that job anyway. Bulma told me you never rest."  
  
And it was beginning to show. Indeed Jita never rested, and her eyes were starting to get a permanent 'dead-tired' look to them.  
  
"Yes, now that I don't have a job, I have more time for training and studying."  
  
Chichi was starting to worry about the other woman. "You have to rest sometime. For your health and sanity. At least sleep."  
  
Jita snorted in derision. "How can sleep help my sanity if I have nightmares every time I close my eyes?" She paused. "I can't believe I just told you that."  
  
But Chichi was in her element. It had been so long since she'd had someone to help. "You need to talk to someone about these things. It makes the burden lighter."  
  
"You know, my own mother used to say that. At least, that's what Vegeta told me. I was too young when she died to remember her. She wasn't considered very warrior-like. But sometimes her advice kept me going better than every fighting skill I had."  
  
Jita seemed to go lost in thought, and Chichi realized just how different she was from her brother. Jita just seemed to be of a different flavor, though nothing Chichi could put her finger on.  
  
The two women talked long into the afternoon, finding many things in common. By the time Jita had to leave, her frustration was gone, and she felt she could face another day.  
  
And, you know? So did Chichi.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
The island was beautiful. There were no signs of any previous visit by anyone, but this was the very island Gohan and Piccolo trained so many years ago, and it was the site of the deaths of Yamcha, Tien, Chaotzu, Piccolo, and Nappa. But now, it was at peace.  
  
Goten was at peace.  
  
For so long he had been the . . . sidekick. He was nobody without the other Saiyans. But now he was finding out who he was without anyone else. He trained. He thought. He figured things out, about himself and the world around him.  
  
And he was getting stronger.  
  
He no longer had the creature comforts that tended to soften people, make them less aware. Out here, alone, all his senses had reached their peak, including his ki-sense.  
  
And he'd reached Super Saiyan level two a few days before. The only time he'd been able to break past level one was when he was fused to Trunks. But now his lonely training was truly paying off.  
  
"Goten!"  
  
Goten smiled easily, breaking out of his meditation. Two months before Tien and Chaotzu had sought him out, telling him that it wasn't healthy to be so long alone. Even Piccolo had visited. And unlike when his dad sought him out, he hadn't avoided them. But this wasn't Tien and Chaotzu.  
  
This was Trunks.  
  
"Hi, Trunks!"  
  
The two greeted each other by throwing a few good-natured punches at each other. Trunks was surprised to see that Goten's speed and strength had increased dramatically. Full of curiosity and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned the punches more serous. Goten laughed, and the two started an all-out spar.  
  
When the fight was over, Trunks was lying on the ground, with Goten staring down at him. Trunks narrowed his eyes slightly. "Looks like the wilderness has done you some good."  
  
Goten smiled, delighted for proof of his well-earned new power. "Looks like you've been spending too much time on homework."  
  
Trunks bristled slightly at this comment, but let it pass. "So, is this where you've been staying?"  
  
"Yeah. I've tried other places, but none of them suited my purposes. I figured, if this was good for Gohan and Piccolo, it'd be good enough for me."  
  
Trunks looked around, wide-eyed. "This is where . . . and that battle between everyone and my dad . . ."  
  
"Yup. 'Cept I think our dads went somewhere else to fight."  
  
Trunks looked around a bit more, trying to picture the battle so long ago.  
  
Goten, however, was in no mood for reverie. "So, how's everyone?" he asked anxiously.  
  
Trunks chuckled. "Your mom's fine."  
  
'How can Trunks know me that well? Oh, yeah. We've been friends since practically birth.'  
  
"She misses you, though. And your dad - he misses you too."  
  
Goten gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Somehow I doubt that. My dad, I mean."  
  
Trunks shifted uncomfortably. These were things not usually talked about openly, at least not in his house. "Your dad really does love you. He just . . . well . . . didn't know how to act around you."  
  
"Yeah, well," Goten said noncommittally. But that did give him something to think about. "I'll go see Mom. Maybe tomorrow. Dad's usually not around in the late morning."  
  
Trunks nodded, and the two talked on into the afternoon.  
  
*****  
  
Jita walked through the woods situated near Satan City, smiling slightly at the coolness of the day and the overcast sky. She knew it wouldn't last, though. Nothing lasted - life . . . or death.  
  
Goten walked beside her, holding her hand. He didn't say anything. He was just - there. Reassuring. She wouldn't be alone.  
  
Jita sighed. "Isn't it nice out here?"  
  
Goten laughed. "I don't know. I guess I like it better when it's warm and sunny. This weather is just depressing."  
  
"Well, I like it."  
  
Goten's grip tightened painfully. "You would."  
  
Jita paused at that. His tone in those two words was harder, making him seem angry and cold. She grew uncomfortable. "I can't stay here much longer. I have to study. I have a test tomorrow."  
  
"You can't leave."  
  
Jita paused, and turned to Goten. His glare seemed to pierce right through her. She suddenly felt so cold. But then he smiled brightly. "Because it's so beautiful out here."  
  
Jita was seriously getting freaked out, and she wasn't sure why. She just felt the unbearable urge to run - get away from Goten. "No really. I have to go." She started to walk away, but Goten grabbed her wrist.  
  
"I guess it wouldn't be beautiful for a soulless witch like you."  
  
Jita's wrist started to burn in Goten's grip. She looked down, and her arm was slowly being eaten away by his energy, already showing the slowly blackening which bone.  
  
"For someone who has murdered millions."  
  
The burning was moving past her shoulder.  
  
"For someone in hell. Isn't that right, Sarah?"  
  
Jita twisted in Goten's grip as his voice became mingled with another, so familiar, voice - her master - from hell . . .  
  
"NO!"  
  
Jita twisted, suffocating in darkness. She couldn't even feel her arm. The cruel words of Goten echoed in her skull as she fell -  
  
And hit the floor in a pile of bedclothes.  
  
She looked around wildly, eyes twitching in paranoid panic as she tore the sheets off of her. Her pale skin glistened in a cold sweat. The words still echoed in her head.  
  
"It was a dream. Just a dream. A dream. Calm down. Control. It was just a dream."  
  
But the cruel face in Goten, looking so much like HIM, was burned on her eyes. She pulled herself onto her bed, truly grateful she was living alone. Despite all attempts she was still trembling, eyes refusing to close. All she could see was him. It was so extremely real. So real.  
  
"But it was just a dream."  
  
Jita finally stopped shaking, but there was no way she'd be able to sleep. She hauled herself onto her bed and grabbed her blanket around her to ward off the cold that had crept into her bones and refused to leave. Flicking on the lamp, she picked up her copy of Catch-22, preparing to fill another sleepless night.  
  
"It was just a dream."  
  
The burns on her arm could be explained.  
  
Jita dropped the book with a gasp. The trembling came back in full force as she stared at the blistered skin between her wrist and elbow. The laughter, the taunting, the voice - of HIM - came back in full force. Urging her to kill. Taunting her for her weakness and fear. So much that Jita'd had enough.  
  
"Leave me alone!"  
  
It may not have been the most eloquent thing to say, but it got the job done. And after a good, strong cup of tea and a ki-healing of her arm, she was almost back to normal. No more pain, fear, panic, rage, torture . . .  
  
Or, at least, she could pretend it wasn't there.  
  
Just pretend it wasn't there.  
  
And maybe she wouldn't lose her mind.  
  
Maybe she could find peace. 


	23. Pangs

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I'll try to keep up with updating, but I've also been editing a lot lately, in addition to real life stuff. Anyway, enjoy. And tell others about this story. I'm afraid that very few people are actually reading this.  
  
  
  
Chapter 22: Pangs  
  
Vegeta walked into the house, having finished a nice five hour training session. But he wasn't so tired as to not notice his sister being trapped again by a certain pair of demi-Saiyans. 'Hmph. She never should have started telling those stories,' he though with amusement. 'And doesn't Gohan's brat ever go home? It's like Trunks and Goten all over again.'  
  
In a fit of whimsy, he chose to stay and listen.  
  
Jita's story:  
  
"It doesn't matter how long ago it happened. It doesn't matter where it happened. Suffice it to say, it was before the Planet Vegeta, in the early days of the Saiyans on a planet lost from memory. The Saiyans were, of course warriors, having formed a rough society. Yet the population was small. The Saiyans had no civilizing traits, and most children were killed by mothers glad to be rid of the encumbrance. Only those Saiyans who formed a bond ever prospered.  
  
Among this chaos, the Two met. They were the strongest of the Saiyans, and had long sought each other out. Their battle raised the bar in fighting - and violence. What had begun as a simple contest had become true hatred. Neither man nor woman could gain the advantage, so the battle ended in a draw.  
  
But the war had not ended. The two had been fighting for the respect of all the Saiyans - and each other. For years they fought, their power constantly growing. Eventually, they won each other's respect and became mates. They continued fighting, having to keep earning respect."  
  
By this time Pan interrupted. "And their baby was the first Super Saiyan."  
  
Bra also couldn't resist interrupting. "And he unified all the Saiyans under his rule, which led to a great Saiyan empire. All the weak elements of the Saiyans were destroyed."  
  
"And his line branched in two - the royal line and a line of strong warriors."  
  
"Both of which can be traced to us over thousands of years!" Bra ended with a flourish.  
  
Jita looked pointedly at the two demi-Saiyans. "Why do I even tell you these stories when you know them all by heart? Now leave me alone, brats."  
  
The two were undaunted by this angry dismissal. "Thanks, Jita!" they yelled over their shoulders, running out the door. "Hi Daddy! Bye Daddy!" Bra rushed past him in the blink of an eye.  
  
"You were listening to that?" Jita noticed her brother at last.  
  
"Hmph. You'd think those stories would have more of an influence on Bra. You'd think she was one of these pathetic humans if it weren't for her untrained strength."  
  
"Well maybe," Bulma unceremoniously interrupted, "my child has better things than fighting in her future."  
  
"Woman, if you can't get it through your head -"  
  
Jita chuckled and quietly slipped out of the house, leaving the couple to quarrel to their hearts' content.  
  
"I think I'll go see Chichi," she said to herself.  
  
*****  
  
"Goten?" Chichi stared hard at the sky. She had often seen illusions of her husband and sons when they had been off to kami-knows-where. She'd gotten used to not trusting her eyes.  
  
"Hi Mom."  
  
"Goten!" It wasn't an illusion; she got further proof by embracing her son. She couldn't speak for the joy, but that didn't stop her from pulling him into the kitchen.  
  
Goten laughed easily. "I'm fine, Mom. Really."  
  
"Nonsense. You can't have been feeding yourself properly."  
  
Yet Chichi could tell this was a false statement. Her boy, who was now more of a man, looked healthier than he ever had. And stronger. And surprisingly well-kempt, since he'd been living in the wilderness. But his appetite was the same as ever.  
  
After a few minutes of laughing and eating, Goten got serious. "Mom - I just wanted to say I'm really sorry. I mean -"  
  
Chichi cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Goten . . . I know. I've gotten used to the idea. You've grown up, and you make your own decisions on how you want to grow up. It's hard for me to accept. I still want to make you into my little boy."  
  
"You're a better mom than I deserve."  
  
"I know."  
  
The two broke off laughing. Chichi was content to tell everything that had happened - mostly about Pan.  
  
After a while, Goten looked at the clock. "I'd better go. I'd rather not run into Dad just yet."  
  
This pained Chichi to see such a rift in her family, but all she could do was smile and nod. "Don't wait so long between visits."  
  
But Goten didn't hear her.  
  
He'd felt that energy before.  
  
"Hello, Chichi."  
  
Jita was about to continue, but she stood frozen before Goten. "Hello, Goten."  
  
Somehow he couldn't even glare at her. He couldn't even answer her. He wasn't ready to deal with that. He simply took off, leaving Jita with some actual pangs of regret.  
  
*****  
  
She was haunting Goten again. Not even letting him sleep in peace. She just wouldn't leave him alone.  
  
Maybe Trunks's visit had gotten Goten to thinking about her. She was Trunks's aunt, after all. Despite the weirdness, it was obvious.  
  
I hurt. Goten had been so sure about her. As Sarah, she'd been perfect. Sure, others said she wasn't that pretty. She was very short, shorter than Vegeta, and she had the palest skin. She was fit, but not very well- developed in figure. Her dark brown hair went all over the place, and bangs hid a widow's peak. Her mouth was in a perpetual scowl, occasionally changing into a smirk. On that note, why hadn't he seen before who she looked so much like? It was so obvious now.  
  
Goten thought she was beautiful - so beautiful. Not only her looks, but her spirit. That fiery spirit that had attracted him in the first place. She was so different from the other girls - more serious, less frivolous. She hadn't giggled at his every word. She hadn't even tried to impress him. She was - real. She had substance. And she wasn't scared whenever he accidentally broke something with his hard-to-control strength.  
  
He'd confided in her. About his father, his family, his feelings. He'd told her how much he'd hated his father's roaming ways, and how he was so afraid he'd become like that. He'd told her about his mother, how she was so controlling, and was always afraid of him getting killed. He'd even told her some of his involvement with Buu, know she wouldn't even remember.  
  
She'd been so interested, had listened so intently. He'd talked for hours, not even realizing the time. Goten had thought he'd finally found someone who truly understood him and accepted him. That feeling was so indescribably - fulfilling. He would never be alone.  
  
But then - the picnic.  
  
Sarah - no, Jita - had been listening so intently for some clue as to the existence of Vegeta. She'd been so interested in the Saiyan families just for this reason - to gather information . . . to kill someone . . .  
  
I hurt so much.  
  
How could he be so foolish? I had been so long since he could open up to anyone. Chichi and Gohan had been going through so much on their own. And Goku - well . . .  
  
Why did Goten have to open up? He'd risked his feelings, and had gotten seriously burned. She didn't care.  
  
'But maybe if she came to me. . .'  
  
No. She wouldn't. He knew that.  
  
Having mentally exhausted himself, he cursed Jita one last time, and fell asleep to bittersweet dream of his hateful love.  
  
*****  
  
Jita stared at the computer screen, eyes burning from the long hours spent on the paper. The forgotten coffee at her side had long since gotten too cold to drink, which was too bad, since she needed to caffeine and didn't feel like getting up to make another one. It would take up time, anyway. And she might lose her train of thought. Not that it wasn't lost already . . .  
  
The words on the screen mocked her. 'The role of the father and father- figure in Hamlet can be . . .' Why did she have to pick that topic? What did she know about father-figures? And why couldn't she write like normally?  
  
Jita sagged in frustration. No matter what she put down, her views would be so far from the Earth culture that the paper would be almost incomprehensible. But she couldn't completely conform to Earth society. She was Saiyan, after all. A true Saiyan. Absolutely ignoring those views would be an insult to the memory of her culture. She knew that. She knew she couldn't change entirely, no matter how easy it would be to do or how easy it would make her life.  
  
A knock came at the door. "It's open!" she yelled. She was a mix of frustration and gratitude when the door opened to reveal Vegeta. Gratitude that now she had something to distract her from the English paper from hell (she could imagine that her old master would give her something like this to do) and frustration for the same reason. "Hello brother. What are you doing here? Can't you see I'm working?"  
  
Vegeta strode in and looked over her shoulder at the words on the computer screen, or the lack thereof. "Yes, I see. Is that all you've gotten done in the last few hours?"  
  
Jita scowled at this attest to her unfortunate case of writer's block. But then she smiled and pulled up another file, showing a ten-page ethics paper on the ethics of war. She was confused about the ethics part of war, but at least she was writing something she was familiar with.  
  
Vegeta quickly skimmed the paper. "Hmph. I could never stand people overanalyzing fighting."  
  
Jita smiled. "I guess it's easier to overanalyze when you don't actually fight. These humans must do SOMETHING to fill their time."  
  
"So, analysis and study is only for people who are not warriors?"  
  
Jita hated it when Vegeta boxed her in with her own words. "So, this is about my not coming over to spar, is that it? I AM training, and I'm not going to become like Gohan. Is that what you're worried about? Because if you're worried about Trunks, you're in the wrong room."  
  
Vegeta growled. "I'm the one who's supposed to be telepathic, not you. And yes, the brat worries me. I won't have him become weaker than Kakarrot's brat. I couldn't stand the smug expression on Kakarrot's face."  
  
"Gohan wouldn't be - oh, you mean Goten. Is he really getting that strong?"  
  
"Can't you sense him, child?" Vegeta stated this as if it were obvious.  
  
Jita gritted her teeth. "I'm not very proficient in sensing ki. I'm working on it, but it is difficult. So, could Goten get that strong?"  
  
"Why are you so interested in Goten?"  
  
"No reason." Jita looked quickly back at her computer.  
  
But Vegeta would have none of it. "You can't hide anything from me, child."  
  
Jita continued to stare straight at her computer. "I don't want to talk about him."  
  
Vegeta stared at her, realization dawning on his face, followed close by horror at the implications. "You're not SERIOUSLY thinking of . . ."  
  
Jita jerked her head toward him. "And why not? I'll tell you why not. Because it's unnatural. Because he's too young for me. Because he wouldn't trust me anyway. Because I used him. Because he's too good for me. Because I wouldn't doom him to the fate of having a soulless mate. That's why I wouldn't seriously think of . . . But he keeps haunting me. He won't let me alone. And I can't do anything about it."  
  
She hadn't even told Chichi, her confidante, all this. Somehow she could open up with Vegeta. But she still felt shame at blurting out her feelings, showing weakness. She almost expected a lecture on weakness and the danger of forming attachments. Jita had gotten enough of those lectures from her brother when she was a child.  
  
Instead, Vegeta sat at the edge of her bed, looking at her in an understanding way. He seemed to show wisdom that she had not been aware of - a wisdom that had come from his experiences on Earth. "I am aware of how hard it is. These earth people, they're like a virus. They get under your skin and in your head, determined to change you. You can't get away from them. It's useless to struggle. You can try to drive them away with harsh words and feigned disinterest, but they won't give up. They keep coming. And then you start to feel yourself changing. No matter what you do, you can't stop it. It'll make you do crazy things, like blowing yourself up - or fusing." Vegeta took a moment to shudder. "You become a completely different person. And you know what the craziest thing is? You actually like the person you've become."  
  
Jita remained wide-eyed and speechless. Her eyes followed Vegeta as he got up and made his way to the door. He turned back, and said as an afterthought, "Finish that paper so you can come and train. Kakarrot and I are going crazy only having each other to spar with."  
  
After he left, Jita slowly regained her composure. Turning back to the computer, she started writing with a surprising renewed vigor. Maybe she knew something about father-figures after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks, as ever, to my reviewers: Omega (kudos to the first reviewers), tim333 (you know, I actually didn't notice how much I focused on Jita. I'm glad you found the chapter captivating), AnonymousCat (writing that dream gave me the chills, too. I almost didn't include it, but I'm glad I left it in. I've gotten lots of comments on it), and my friend Dark Wolf (I can't believe you read my story in one sitting. And reviewed more than once. I glad for the appreciation and criticism. It's hard to have a good fic that very few people read.) Everyone, read "A Saiyan's Worth" by Dark Wolf. It's an excellent story already, and it has promise to get even better. His battle sequences are extremely vivid, and his characterization is wonderful. If you're into Gundam Wing, then those are probably worth reading as well. Not being a Gundam Wing fan, I wouldn't appreciate the stories.  
  
Until the next time I update. Farewell. 


	24. I Hate You

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Wow. Has it been that long? Finally edited this chapter to my liking. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 23: I Hate You  
  
Vegeta lay unconscious on the ground of the gravity room. The only other occupant of the room was Jita.  
  
She had beaten her brother.  
  
And she was still angry.  
  
She left Vegeta where he lay, know he would recover shortly. Eventually he'd want a rematch, and would probably beat her.  
  
She didn't care. She just wanted another person to thrash.  
  
She ran upstairs to find Trunks. He wasn't there. She searched for his ki, and finally felt it in the library.  
  
Darn.  
  
Gohan was there also.  
  
Darn again.  
  
And where was Kakarrot? Oh yeah. Chichi said something about going out that night.  
  
Darn yet again.  
  
"I have to spar with someone!" she ranted futily. "But the only other Saiyan is . . ."  
  
It was risky, but she could stand unresolved issues just as much as she could stand failing grades on ethics papers.  
  
She hated ethics papers.  
  
"I don't need ethics anyway."  
  
*****  
  
The peace of the evening was shattered. Not by Tien and Chaotzu. Not by Piccolo. Not by Trunks. Not even by Goku.  
  
Goten had been dreading this moment - perhaps more than he dreaded facing his dad.  
  
There she was, beautiful as ever. Her hair blonde. Her eyes teal and glinting madly. She was glaring in an unspoken challenge.  
  
Goten's human side told him do refuse the challenge. To reject her for all the pain she had caused. His Saiyan side told him to smash her face in for all the pain she had caused.  
  
The Saiyan side won.  
  
The fight was a rather desperate one - one from out of anger, pain, and perhaps even the attraction they had for each other. The year of separation had reached its boiling point.  
  
And in minutes it was over. Jita had been thrown down - and wasn't getting up. She wasn't injured.  
  
She was crying.  
  
Immediately Goten forgot about his grudge against Jita at the sound of her heart-killing sobs. He took her in his arms, only to have her push him away.  
  
"Why don't you leave me alone? Why won't you get out of my head? You've been haunting me for a year, and I can't take it anymore! Kiss me or kill me! I don't care which."  
  
Goten's features hardened. "You can't use me like this. Just being together won't make everything all right. Besides - I hate you."  
  
"I hate you even more!"  
  
"Well, then. Since that's cleared up I guess I can kiss you now."  
  
And kiss they did.  
  
"I still hate you," Jita said breathlessly.  
  
Goten simply smiled.  
  
*****  
  
"Why Sarah?"  
  
Jita looked up from where she'd been sitting, trying to recover from the battle. That one kiss hadn't kept them from fighting. Not even the second . . . or the third . . . Goten was admittedly stronger in body, but Jita was the smarter and more experienced fighter. It all tended to even out. But she was still exhausted, as was he. "What do you mean?"  
  
Goten bit back a yawn. Man, was he tired. "I mean, it's just a weird name. Doesn't sound a bit like Jita."  
  
"It was a nondescript name. And . . . well . . ." She broke off, embarrassed.  
  
This only got Goten more interested. "What?"  
  
"Before I came to Earth, I familiarized myself with certain aspects of the culture so I could blend in. I listened to "The Phantom of the Opera." I took Sarah from Sarah Brightman, the woman who played the female lead."  
  
"Oh," Goten said, completely out of his depth. "Wasn't that Natalie Portman?"  
  
"What? Wait, you're thinking of "The Phantom Menace." Big difference. One is some of the greatest music ever written. The other is a bad attempt at continuing a proven money-making film trilogy by a man who thinks too much of himself."  
  
Goten laughed.  
  
"Are you laughing at me?" Jita was a little surprised at his gall.  
  
"Yes. It's just that - well - you're really good at blending in. I mean, you know so much about Earth, and you're going to college. You fit in here better than I do."  
  
Jita yawned and stretched her arms, working the soreness out of her muscles. "It's not really a good thing. I'm just talented at blending in. I'm a fast learner. But it helped that you live where people speak Common. I didn't have to learn another language."  
  
The two passed a few minutes in silence. Jita checked her watch, only to realize it had been broken in the fight (along with her wrist, but she had healed that easily). How annoying.  
  
The night was clear, yet moonless. The two Saiyans could only see each other by the light of the small fire Goten had made. The fire crackled and sent tiny sparks in the air, sparks formed and faded faster than they could keep up with. Jita shivered and drew closer to the fire. Why did she have to inhabit such an incredibly cold planet? Everywhere she went was covered in ice and snow, and she couldn't ward off the dull ache of chill, no matter how warmly she dressed. She'd taken to automatically adding a jacket to every outfit. Only a few days in summer was she ever really comfortable.  
  
Goten noticed her shivering, but decided not to mention it. There wasn't much he could do about it besides stoke the fire to keep it going. He had nothing in the way of blankets or jackets. He had no need of such accoutrements. They would only get in the way. Plus, she would get angry at any such offer.  
  
This - was strange. It felt right; it felt good, but it was still strange. Who was this girl anyway? How could he feel so at ease around a person who he had hated a few short hours before? He had cursed her name - almost nightly. Was it her he hated - or himself? He'd thought this time in the wilderness has given him a better grasp of himself and every one else, but that night had shattered his understanding. He suddenly wanted to start over, maybe by learning everything about the beautiful creature before him.  
  
Jita smiled softly. She had been reading his facial expression, highlighted orange in the flickering flames. He had the most expressive face, especially now that he didn't seem as guarded. He was always guarded around others, but never around her. It made it easy to tell what the young man was thinking. "You're wanting to know about me, aren't you? I can understand that. After all, you've told me all about you."  
  
Goten bit back a hurtful remark. He hadn't fully recovered from that betrayal. Jita noticed this, but decided there was not much she could say. So she began her tale, "During the fight, I know Trunks told you about my origins. I was listening, though I guess I should have been concentrating on the fight. No matter. So you know about my early life."  
  
"Yes. I pumped Trunks for details later. You were born without a tail, which I don't think is such a big deal, and you had to earn the titles of princess and warrior in a fight. You somehow survived Planet Vegeta's destruction, and you were allowed to enlist in Frieza's elite army. Vegeta raised you, but killed you later when Frieza found out you were planning to organize a rebellion against him."  
  
Jita nodded. "Hmph. All true, in the sparest detail. He didn't tell you anything else?"  
  
Goten frowned. "No. Why would he? That's all he knew."  
  
'Good. Vegeta didn't tell anyone.' "Oh. Well, when I died, I felt nothing but a need for vengeance against Frieza and my brother. Therefore," she took a breath, "Isoldmysoul."  
  
"Huh?" Goten asked, hoping he'd heard wrong.  
  
"I sold my soul," Jita repeated slowly. "For vengeance. There was this man - the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell. He was the only one who would train me with my intent."  
  
The shivering became more pronounced and less controllable, much to Jita's displeasure. Goten was desperately trying to process this information. How could she not have a soul? He saw too much in her eyes, the poetic windows to the soul. "Why?"  
  
Anger flashed across Jita's features. "I told you. For vengeance. I - was young. And stupid. And angry. I didn't have anything else to live for - I wasn't even alive. I just wanted to mean something, even if it was evil. Death came unexpected, and it was so meaningless. Do you understand?"  
  
'Yes,' Goten thought, glaring back at her. "Is it so important that I understand?"  
  
Jita's eyes widened, and then dropped to look at the ground. "No," she lied. "What's done is done. I got the training. I got revived. I didn't take revenge. I'll live with the consequences."  
  
Goten was about to ask what she meant, but her silence spoke volumes. What did he think happened to damned souls? They went to hell, one way or the other. Only now, she wouldn't be quite as - favored - as if she had taken the revenge. He felt the sudden urge to change the subject. "So - um - what happened after you came back to life? It couldn't have been coincidence that you just happened to come upon the one planet Saiyans were on."  
  
Jita looked up, startled from her brooding. "No. It wasn't coincidence. When I woke up alive, I was on a planet I didn't recognize at first. It was too barren, and there were ruins everywhere. Alien skeletons were strewn about, all with Kold armor. I had my suspicions then, but I didn't want to jump to any conclusions. When I finally found a working scouter, I found out I was on the Planet Frieza, in the very room I'd died before. I suppose that made sense, but the complete destruction of the place threw me. The scouter also had records of what took place on Namek. You can imagine how that felt. I didn't exactly get news of the mortal universe in hell, and I'd just assumed both Frieza and Vegeta would still be alive. But they had both died.  
  
But I knew Saiyans were out there, so I set out to find them. It took a huge amount of time, but I was finally able to get to Historia. I'd spared the planet once, so they kept all the Saiyan relics we were able to save. I went there to take the relics, and I figured the historians would be the only ones to know the truth of what happened to the Kold Empire. After I could convince them I wasn't a ghost, they told me that the Saiyan named Goku, or Kakarrot, currently resided on Earth. There had also been rumors of a Saiyan that had squashed most of the Kold Empire forces, but they didn't know if that was Goku or someone else.  
  
So, I came to Earth. I kind of wandered aimlessly for a while. I didn't want to give my identity away, so I hid my powers. The biggest problem was that I didn't have the greatest ki-sense. Still don't, really. My control of ki is superior to most, since that is what my hell training mostly consisted of, but there are only a few people in the lower realms of hell. I didn't get that much practice sensing ki there. So it WAS coincidence that I found you. I could tell you were a Saiyan right off. Mostly because you were sparring with Trunks at the time. I could place you as Kakkarot's son, since you looked so much like him, and your uncle Raditz, and your grandfather Bardock. But Trunks was another story. He didn't even look Saiyan. I just couldn't place him. So, I knew there had to be another full-blooded Saiyan. I had to know who it was before I revealed my identity. So, I furthered my disguise and socialized with you."  
  
Goten had been listening in silence, but something bugged him. "Why didn't you just go out with Trunks," he said bitterly. "You could have met his father sooner."  
  
Jita frowned, realizing the logic of that argument. "I - don't know. I guess - um - well - you were more attractive."  
  
Goten looked at her in surprise and confusion. "Me? I'm not the one all the girls swoon over. Trunks is."  
  
Jita scoffed. "Oh, please. Purple hair? Do you realize how gay that looks?"  
  
Goten tried to contain his laughter, but failed miserably. He'd always thought the same thing, but wouldn't tell that to his best friend. "And? What happened then?"  
  
Jita rubbed her arms briskly to get some warmth back. "You know the rest, actually."  
  
The conversation died an awkward death. Neither knew what to say. And it seemed like they had talked too much, despite the year of separation, with only a few words passed between them. Goten had gotten unused to talking at all.  
  
Not only that, he was so afraid that everything would change in the morning. Maybe this was just a freaky mood swing for her. It wasn't unheard of. In the morning, she would close up - never speak to him. Or say something hateful. He couldn't bear that. He couldn't stand to be hurt again. No matter how superhumanly, or supersaiyanly, strong he was - she could break him if he let her get too close.  
  
"I'd like to learn that kamehame attack of yours," Jita said out of the blue, though if she had told the truth, she would have said, "I'd like to spend time with you, because I don't want to be left alone."  
  
"Sure," Goten answered. "But it's easy. I 'd like to learn a few of your ki techniques." Though if HE was telling the truth, he'd have said, "I like you, and I'm taking a chance. Just please don't hurt me."  
  
But the unsaid was mostly understood.  
  
Jita got up and stretched. "I have a mid-term tomorrow. I need to get back so I can study."  
  
Goten looked at the glorious sunrise, somehow more glorious this morning than all the others he'd watched. "But it's so beautiful here." He paused as Jita suddenly flinched, apparently for no reason. "What's wrong?"  
  
Jita's eyes narrowed, as if sizing him up. She was clutching her forearm and backing away. "I've really got to go." There was a hunt of almost fear in her voice.  
  
Goten pondered her reactions for a moment, but then shrugged them off. "Well, come back whenever. You know I'll be here."  
  
Jita stared at him for a minute, and then forced herself to relax. As she began to fly back to the university, she thought, 'It wasn't a dream. I was afraid it was a dream.'  
  
Goten closed his eyes, weary in body and mind from the night. Those events hadn't really sunk in, but one thing had sunk in. He loved her. Not enough to spout sonnets yet. But it was enough to want to be with her after what he knew about her. He wanted to help her. It was true she didn't have a soul, or at least didn't own her soul, but everyone got a second chance. Vegeta came back from being majin, when he'd pretty much sold his soul. He'd already come out of being evil once before. Other people, too. Android 18 was now a good person, though his mother and brother had told him how evil she was before Cell - how she'd wanted to kill his father. And not to forget Buu, who's first form was changed to good by Mr. Satan and a puppy. People could change.  
  
Goten laid back, exhaustion finally overtaking him as he watched to orange embers from the remnants of his fire finally die and turn black. He smiled, and his last conscious thought was, 'I won't let her go to hell.'  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to my reviewers: Omega (the waiting is finally over. Just in time to start waiting all over again), Dark Wolf (I spent the longest time writing that scene with Vegeta. It's hard to get the Vegeta/Jita sibling relationship believable. Maybe because I don't have siblings), Ssjgoddesschico (Thanks for getting my name out. Hope it works), and Anonymous Cat. See y'all. 


	25. Contest

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Well, I know it's been a while, but this chapter was difficult to write. And I had to do it all from scratch. I probably won't get the next chapter out until after Thanksgiving. Hope you enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 24: Contest  
  
  
  
Kami's Lookout. Although it had seen battles and destruction by both Garlic Jr. and Buu, and it had been the setting of some of the most intense training ever known, God's house seemed to be a haven of peace and tranquility. Dende was watching the world over the southern edge. Mr. Popo was happily watering the intricate garden he'd finally perfected after many long years (the Namekian dragon had not restored the garden well after the Buu incident). Piccolo was taking time out from training and meditating to talk with Gohan, who was taking time out from his teaching and research to visit his old mentor. All was calm and quiet. Until . . .  
  
"Gohan!" Jita landed in the middle of Kami's Lookout and spun around, quickly locating the annoyed demi-Saiyan professor. He had come up here to get away from pressure.  
  
"Gohan," she continued. "Why are you up here and not reading those papers? Are you done? What did I make? And, by the way, where exactly are we?"  
  
Dende couldn't help but notice the noisy intruder. He couldn't even concentrate on the volcano eruption near Hawaii. He turned to face the girl, who he quickly recognized from when he looked in on the Z-warriors. "Hello, Jita. You're on Kami's Lookout. I am Dende, Earth's kami, and this is Piccolo." The young god would have introduced Mr. Popo, but he had disappeared inside.  
  
Jita eyed them both warily. "Ah, yes. The Nameks. I would introduce myself, but since you already know everything about me from your infernal spying, I won't bother."  
  
Gohan rolled his eyes. "Listen, Jita, you'll find out your paper grade when everyone else does. Now, unless you're here to pick a fight, then you're probably wasting your time here."  
  
Jita looked down on the others - quite a feat for one so short around such tall people. "I would be wasting my time even if I did come here to pick a fight."  
  
Piccolo looked her over. "Hmph. No mistaking it, you are Vegeta's sister. No one else could think they're god in god's own house."  
  
Jita raised her eyebrows. "Well, you would be the has-been Namek warrior. I could take you in a minute."  
  
Gohan looked like he was going to intercede, but one look from his former mentor stopped him short. He had been fairly itching for a fight in this time of peace, but Gohan wouldn't present a mental challenge. The boy had grown entirely too lax in his training. And he knew about Jita's famed talent in ki. So, Piccolo decided to turn the tables on the princess. He stared her down, using both height and the fact that he looked older (well, on his Kami half, he was). If Jita was the least bit intimidated, she didn't show it. "I may not be your equal in strength," he said slowly, mockingly, "but I am everyone's superior in ki manipulation. Even better than Goku."  
  
Jita looked royally surprised, as did everyone else. "Is that a challenge? I can't imagine anyone being better at controlling ki than I am, but I welcome the test of my abilities."  
  
Piccolo nodded. "A ki contest." The two began to power up.  
  
Mr. Popo, sensing the two rising kis, ran outside in a panic. "Not here! Please! I just perfected the garden! You'll destroy it!"  
  
The two warriors quickly powered down. Piccolo knew Mr. Popo would give him grief for years if he ruined the garden. As for Jita, she had a true appreciation for beauty, and the garden WAS beautiful. Piccolo motioned toward Earth. "We'll go somewhere a bit more desolate."  
  
Jita nodded, but then looked at her clothing. Velvet and scarlet chenille. Her favorite outfit. "Allow me to get changed. I'll meet you in an hour."  
  
"Just find my ki-signature."  
  
Jita frowned. But she was not about to admit her weakness in ki-sensing. She merely got a thorough feel of his ki, hoping that would be enough, and shot off to her dorm. This day was turning out to be more interesting than she'd anticipated.  
  
Gohan watched as Jita and Piccolo took off in opposite directions. A ki contest. Not a common occurrence, but Gohan couldn't think of two better candidates. Piccolo relied heavily on ki techniques, and spent much of his time meditating just to master his ki. As for Jita, wherever she had trained in death had certainly taught her some interesting tricks. Gohan was getting excited at the prospect of this unconventional match, and realized everyone else would probably wish to see it. Noting the time, he quickly went to round up some spectators.  
  
Dende, now virtually alone and forgotten on his lookout, shook his head and went back to watching the volcano. 'Warriors.'  
  
*****  
  
Jita smiled, not believing her luck. All through changing her clothing she'd tried to keep up with Piccolo's ki, but he'd suppressed for a while. It wasn't for very long, but long enough to confuse her. She'd almost given in to frustration, when she sensed almost ALL of the stronger kis in one area. She'd flown to the place, thankfully a sufficiently warm arid desert, and was greeted by an audience of action-deprived warriors. Goku, Gohan, Trunks, Krillen, and Yamcha were all together, looking to be in an intense conversation. Vegeta was looking on, trying to hide his amusement. Eighteen was with Krillen, and seemed to be in disagreement with him. As for Piccolo, he had been ignoring everyone until Jita arrived.  
  
"So, you finally decided to show up," Piccolo commented.  
  
Jita rolled her eyes. "I am exactly on time. If you're trying to distract me with such comments, then you are faulty in your strategy."  
  
Piccolo crossed his arms and looked over at Gohan. "How do the odds stand?" At Jita's expression, the gamblers fell into laughter.  
  
"So, this is the way you Earth people treat a serious contest. Did you participate in this inane game, brother?"  
  
The laughter increased, and even Vegeta afforded an amused chuckle. "I bet 100 against you. You may have more tricks, but most of them take up too much energy. You'll be limited in what you can do."  
  
"Oh, really. This sounds like a male's childish pastime, but I can't believe you're involved, Eighteen."  
  
The android raised her eyebrows. "Of course I wouldn't participate in these childish antics. I'm here to watch. There are so few women fighters, and most of them don't train enough to be even remotely interesting."  
  
Piccolo cleared his throat for attention. "If you're ready. . ."  
  
Jita cracked her neck and stretched her arms in front of her. "One moment. The men may have a point there. It would certainly be more interesting if we had something to lose. So, what'll it be?"  
  
Piccolo frowned. Did these humanoids always have to make things more difficult? "Very well. If you are so insistent, then you will pick first."  
  
Jita crossed her arms. Summer was almost upon here, and she would soon have the usual task of watching Pan and Bra. That would be bothersome, especially since she had planned to spend a lot more time with Goten that summer. And she could never get her reading done with those rambunctious girls taking up all her free time. You just couldn't concentrate around those chibis. Wouldn't it be great if she could get them out of her hair for a few weeks? An evil glint came to her eyes. "Tell ya what. If I win, you have to baby-sit Pan and Bra five days a week for two weeks this summer. That's usually from when they get up until about 4:00. And they don't sleep in. That is, if it's alright with the fathers."  
  
Piccolo eyes widened at the implications. He had sworn off babysitting a long time ago. If fact, it was the day he died at the battle with the Saiyans. A whole year spent watching over a demi-Saiyan was no piece of cake, and the two girls were probably more of a handful than Gohan ever was. Speaking of Gohan . . . he looked over at the fathers of the demon children, desperately searching for a reprieve. Gohan was doubled over in laughter, along with most others, and Vegeta was smirking at the former demon. "No, sister, I have no objections," Vegeta replied in tone of mock civility.  
  
Piccolo mentally cursed all Saiyans in general, causing Nail a good-natured laugh and Kami to scold him gently. Didn't he have enough to deal with having these voices in his head? The last thing he needed was a couple of chibis to distract him. However, he had not dealt his blow yet. "Well, I needn't worry about that, since I do not intend to lose. What you'll need to worry about is far worse. When I win, you will take cooking classes from Chichi."  
  
The warriors gasped at Piccolo's terms. Chichi, the most exacting and demanding woman ever to live, teaching the thing she excelled at the most . . . the term "fate worse than death" came to the minds of the warriors extremely familiar with her temperament. Even Jita was put off by this prospect. Sure, Chichi was one of the few people she could confide in, but to be taught by Chichi? "Why would you care about my cooking abilities? You're a Namek; you don't eat. And even if you did, I wouldn't cook for you anyway."  
  
Piccolo smirked at her discomfiture. "I DON'T care. But I've heard complaints . . ."  
  
Jita cut him off. "All right, I agree. But let's get this started, so I can beat the crud out of Trunks."  
  
Yamcha laughed at Trunks stuttering protests. "Don't even try it. She's got you."  
  
Piccolo ignored them. "Then let's begin. Goku, get over here and referee."  
  
Jita shook her head. "Uh-uh. He bet against me, probably. Eighteen's the only one who doesn't have money riding on the outcome."  
  
Goku's eyes widened. "Hey, I'm impartial. And I bet for you. I've fought against you too much to underestimate you. Besides, I know more about ki than Eighteen."  
  
Eighteen didn't relish the task of judge. "Let Goku referee. I really don't want to. Besides, he'd never cheat. He's too good," she added with amusement. The others couldn't help but appreciate this jab at Goku's more annoying side.  
  
Now that the terms were settled, all were at a loss as to how this contest would be conducted. It wasn't like a normal fight. Gohan, after a minute's deliberation, decided that it should be graded on control and originality. As for the rules, they could be made up as they went along.  
  
The two warriors faced each other, the air thick with anticipation. It was about to begin. Jita, impatient to get started, fired the first shot. Piccolo wasn't sure what had happened, until he noticed a hole about the size of a dime in the left corner of his cape. Cursing, he answered in turn with a hole of the exact same size on the knee of her pants, though the energy did even touch the skin. The first strokes had been dealt.  
  
Jita glanced angrily at her pants. He'd ruined them! Piccolo noticed her anger and, chuckling, repaired his cape with hardly a look. Jita, not one to be upstaged so early in the game, repaired her clothing in much the same fashion.  
  
After a moment's thought, Piccolo decided to make the first move. He surmised that Jita wouldn't know much about ki techniques that were purely Terran in origin. Vegeta had been somewhat surprised by the attack he had in mind. He let his eyes go out of focus and, concentrating, made three more of himself surrounding the Saiyan girl. "Tri-form technique," the four Nameks calmly stated.  
  
Jita looked around from one to the other. "Wow. I guess you've answered the question 'What is uglier than one Namek?'" The other warriors stifled their amusement at this jab. If it was an insult contest, she'd probably win. "Now it's my turn." Raising her ki a bit more, Jita zipped around the four Piccolos, creating after-images.  
  
"That wouldn't work against tri-form. What is she doing?" Krillen commented.  
  
However, when Jita returned to the middle, the four after-images she'd left were still there. After a moment's concentration, the after-images in front of the Piccolo clones became more opaque, and even turned Super Saiyan, even though the original Jita did not. "Ghost-image," the images said smugly, yet Jita did not speak.  
  
Then, suddenly, while everyone else was arguing over which technique was the most powerful and effective, the clones attacked, rising in the air while Jita looked on in fierce concentration.  
  
"Oh, I get it," Gohan said. "She's controlling each ghost telepathically. That would take more control than the tri-form."  
  
The Jita ghosts definitely had the upper hand, but Jita herself looked to be under strain. The four fights were getting complicated, and she couldn't even push the ghosts' levels up farther than the lowest Super Saiyan level. With a growl of frustration, Jita looked away, and the ghosts disappeared. With a triumphant gleam in his eyes, Piccolo became one again. Jita closed her eyes to bring the world back in focus, as well as to shut out the Namek's smug expression. Gathering herself, she faced her opponent off. "If you think this is finished, you're out of your mind."  
  
Piccolo gestured to her. "I believe that it is your move."  
  
Jita brainstormed for a minute, ignoring the bets being changed, as well as her new technique being discussed. She'd noticed that Piccolo, and most other warriors she'd fought, relied completely on the ki they had in themselves. Well, she didn't have that limitation. Focusing on the ground around them, she tried to pull life from nature. It wasn't easy; the ground was pretty barren, but there was enough.  
  
"What is she doing?" she heard Yamcha say out of fascination.  
  
"That looks like when she put the energy barrier up the first time I saw her fight. Don't you think so, Dad?" Trunks replied. Vegeta merely nodded slightly.  
  
As she began to pull more energy, Goku was slightly alarmed. He knew that feeling. "Wait, Jita. Are you preparing a Genki Dama? That's a bit too powerful for a game."  
  
"Don't be foolish, Kakarrot," she snapped. "There's more to fighting than just explosions."  
  
Then, without warning, Piccolo was frozen. Jita had formed a barrier close to his skin, and he couldn't move an inch. The more he struggled, the worse it got, until he was about to get truly worried about his air supply. After all, how much COULD he trust this strange Saiyan girl? However, before he could have serious doubts, the barrier dropped, leaving the Namek gasping.  
  
"What was that?" asked Krillen.  
  
"That one is a manifestation of something I call 'nature drain.' Notice I didn't use any of my own ki. A bit more useful than a genki dama when you want to use the energy for something other than killing."  
  
Piccolo adjusted his cape and brainstormed for a technique to match that. He had always used his energy to affect the environment, and had used nature in his meditation, but he had never thought of using nature's energy itself. It just seemed rather - unnatural. Harmful to the environment. He decided to prove that technique to not be as affective as she made it out to be. Better to use what you have. Though, borrowed ki techniques were completely legal. Such as . . . Piccolo formed his ki into a circle and quickly surrounded Jita with it, pinning her arms to her sides. Soon it was squeezing her tightly, mostly to make a point.  
  
"Hey, that's one of Gotenks's techniques!" exclaimed Trunks. "The energy ring attack. We used it against Buu."  
  
Jita struggled, desperately trying to make a better showing. So far Piccolo had been coming out on top or even with her with every exchange. She wasn't going to let a Namek win over her. Well, she knew something that would tip the scales, but she needed her hands. Well, maybe that was a good thing. She hated to use the technique so early in the game, since she KNEW there was no other move to match it. So, this required something more physical. Jita stopped struggling and waited for the ring to relax. Then she quickly compressed her body and ducked out of the energy ring, knocking it out of the way. At least she hadn't practically cried for mercy as the Namek would have surely done. Her technique was still superior. Adjusting her clothing, she smiled smugly over at her opponent. "Your move."  
  
Now Piccolo had to regain the upper hand. He drew upon his knowledge of the Saiyan, figuring he needed to use something he'd never seen a Saiyan use. And he knew just the thing. Before she knew it, thin ki-beams were coming at Jita from left and right, barely close enough for her to feel a concentrated burst of heat from each. Yet Piccolo's hands had not moved. The beams were coming out of his eyes.  
  
"Yeah, good one Piccolo!" Gohan shouted. He knew those eyes beams to be wicked in close assault.  
  
"I agree with you, Gohan, it is good," Jita admitted, still smiling smugly at Piccolo. "But if that's all they can do . . ."  
  
The others reacted with shock as beams shot out of Jita's eyes - and struck Piccolo dead-on, forcing him to his knees. Slowly, and with not a little pain, Piccolo got to his feet and started walking towards Jita. He was struggling the entire way, veins bulging from his green skin with the strain. "This is the real eye beam technique," Jita said through enormous concentration.  
  
Krillen's eyes twitched at the memory. "I remember that technique! General Blue used it. Remember that, Goku?"  
  
Goku just looked on with almost disgust. "Yeah, I remember, Krillen. I never liked that attack. Jita!" he yelled. "You've made your point already. You can stop now."  
  
Jita, slightly irritated at the interruption, abruptly broke her concentration, causing the Namek to fall forward from the sudden drop in pressure. "It was hardly enough to seriously hurt him. I don't see what the big deal is," she said to the horrified faces. All but Vegeta was astounded at her casual disregard for the pain she had caused.  
  
"All right," Piccolo reclaimed her attention, still a bit thrown from the unnerving technique she had used. "Just get on with your next technique."  
  
Jita crossed her arms. "Well, I have to say that I can beat you in variety any day, but this is getting boring. What say we try two more tests with just ordinary ki blasts?"  
  
Piccolo glanced over at Goku, who was beginning to agree with Jita. It was either getting boring or disturbing. "First we'll do big ki-blasts. I'll draw a line between you, and you keep your ki-blasts connected. First one to lose control . . . well . . . loses," Goku ended awkwardly. No matter how many times he was pushed into the leadership position, he was never truly comfortable with it, especially when not in the heat of battle. He walked over between them, judged the distance, and drew a line deep in the sand. He then took a measure of both powers. "I'll fire a blast, and I want you to match that strength exactly." Powering up, he did a quick kamehameha, and retreated from the battle ground.  
  
Piccolo smirked and put his fingers to his forehead, forming his signature attack - the Makkankosappo. He wondered briefly when Jita was going to start her attack already as he watched her pondering.  
  
"What do you think she'll use, Trunks?" Gohan asked.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. She usually uses Galic Gun, though."  
  
"Of course," Vegeta commented, mostly to himself. "We came up with that attack together."  
  
Jita pondered for a moment. She could of course use any of the attacks they knew through Vegeta, but how would that show her versatility? She wanted to show off how fast she learned. And she needed something that would definitely be close to Goku's blast. She was NOT going to lose.  
  
As the others looked on with wonder, she slowly cupped her hands to one side. Maybe she could even throw Piccolo off balance with surprise.  
  
"KA . . . . ME . . ."  
  
"What th-" Vegeta started.  
  
"HA . . . . ME . . ."  
  
"Is she doing what I think she's doing?" Krillen wondered aloud.  
  
"HHHHAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"MAKKANKOSAPPO!!!!!!" Piccolo shouted, letting loose the blast just in time. He had indeed been thrown off guard momentarily by her choice in attack.  
  
The blasts met exactly at the line, the coiled beam looking odd in the stationary pose against the yellow kamehameha wave. The two warriors were almost immediately straining for control. Ki-blasts, especially finishing moves, were not meant to remain in place. They were meant to, well, blast things into smithereens.  
  
"How did she learn that one?" Yamcha asked rhetorically.  
  
"Either she watched Goku," Trunks decided to answer, "or she learned from Goten."  
  
"Why would she - oh," Yamcha said, noticing Vegeta's discomfort at Trunks's comment. He looked over at Goku, but the man was so intent on reading the power levels in front of him that he hadn't heard a word they had said.  
  
Jita frowned. Maybe she had made a mistake in her choice. She was showing her versatility, and had almost gotten the element of surprise, but both were at the cost of control. She was struggling with the unfamiliar attack. However, if she could pull this off, she would be in the lead. In a strange afterthought, she wished Goten were here to see her putting his teaching in action.  
  
Piccolo struggled at his end. Leave it to Goku to think of something even Piccolo would struggle with. If he dared to spare any of his concentration, then he knew he could have looked over to see Goku with that innocently mocking smile on his face.  
  
Suddenly, the Namek started to feel strange disturbances in the beam near the middle. He could see the Saiyan girl smirking through her concentration. She was actually varying the ki within the beam itself, all the while keeping her entire kamehameha wave at an average of the exact strength. Piccolo smiled grimly at her audacity. 'So, she thinks she can outdo me that way?' he thought. Slowly, he began to do the same thing, matching each fluctuation perfectly with hers, maintaining the balance, and then taking control of the game. Her eyes widened. She was starting to lose control. She was sweating and her breathing was starting to get a ragged quality, even more so than Piccolo. After three more minutes, Jita lost control, her kamehameha wave veering upward to the sky. Yelling in impotent frustration, she quickly dodges Piccolo's coiled beam. She'd lost . . . again. For once, she considered disregarding the rules and just attacking Piccolo, just to show who was really the master. But she knew that would make her look stupid, and more of her pride would be lost. She couldn't have that. That wouldn't do at all.  
  
If only Piccolo would stop smiling!  
  
Goku, along with everyone else, noticed and interpreted her inner struggle through the look she was giving Piccolo. Goku decided to act fast. "OK, everyone, calm down. We have one more contest. Piccolo, do you remember all those ki-blasts when you were fighting Cell?  
  
Piccolo smiled in understanding. "Yeah, I think so." Before him formed fifty dots of ki, all forming a spherical shape.  
  
Jita shook off her former defeat. "I see where you're going, Kakarrot. Guided ki technique." She did a quick count and concentrated. Beside each yellow ki dot formed another ki dot, this time blue in color. Without a word to break their concentration and control, Piccolo and Jita began to move the dots, interweaving them in an intricate light show.  
  
After a minute, Trunks was getting a headache trying to follow the paths. "So . . . what makes them lose, now?"  
  
Vegeta motioned him to silence. Even though he bet against her, he didn't want his sister to lose. And she seemed to have a more difficult time concentrating than the Namek. That was to be expected. Exactly how much meditation could she get done in hell? "They're following a pattern. First one to break the pattern loses."  
  
Krillen looked away. "Gives me a headache just watching it."  
  
Jita was starting to get a headache too. Her face was scrunched up in ultimate concentration, but Piccolo seemed unflappable. And then, the voice came . . .  
  
'what are you doing these are trivialities i had great hopes for you you will come to me how could you betray me what has any of them done for you what has your brother done for you the boy will not remain faithful all you have to do is kill vegeta he will not expect it no one else can contest you not if you use . . .'  
  
"SHUT UP!!"  
  
Involuntarily, Jita grabbed her head, and each ki dot strengthened in her violent reaction and collided, causing a massive explosion. All of the warriors were thrown back, but Piccolo and Jita seemed to be the worse for wear. Jita quickly repaired her broken wrist, forcing herself to stop shaking.  
  
She looked around. Everyone was staring at her, and Vegeta seemed to have a knowing expression on his face. From shock to pity, she couldn't stand it anymore. "Well," she said, hoping to break the spell, "I lost." She smiled, seeming to regain her composure. She couldn't show how scared she was right now. "I guess I'll have to take those lessons from Chichi."  
  
Jita was about to leave, when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked behind her at Goku. "Wait a minute."  
  
Goku's face was serious. Jita was so afraid that he would demand an explanation, and the others would finally decide she was evil. If Goku got it in his head that she needed to be disposed of, there was nothing she could do. It was either die, or condemn herself to maybe a worse fate. She clenched her teeth, waiting for him to pronounce judgment.  
  
"You both won," the man said with a smile.  
  
Jita's eyes widened. She'd almost forgotten about the contest, and his role as referee/judge, in her panic. "What is the basis of your judgment?"  
  
"Yes, Goku," Piccolo added. "How did you come to that conclusion?"  
  
Goku's smile seemed to break the tension caused by Jita's strange outburst. The mood always lightened whenever he wanted it to. "Yeah, Piccolo, you clearly won on control. But Jita had more variety and originality. So, you both win."  
  
"So that means I'm out of cooking lessons," Jita said with some relief.  
  
"No, you're still going to take cooking lessons," Goku added with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think I'd pass on an opportunity to see that?"  
  
Gohan began to laugh out loud. "Of course! The agreement was based on winning, not losing. So, that means Piccolo has some babysitting to do," he ended, laughing at Piccolo's horrified expression.  
  
"Oh, don't feel too bad, Piccolo," Vegeta said with some sarcasm. "I'm sure you'll get along with Bra just fine. She's a perfect angel," he said of his hyper-active, slightly spoiled handful of a daughter.  
  
Piccolo sweat-dropped, but couldn't resist getting a jab to Vegeta. "If she'd anything like you, I wouldn't count on it."  
  
The party broke up soon after, Piccolo being the first to leave. He felt unbalanced at the prospect of babysitting again, and needed to meditate it out of his system. Jita left soon after, still incredibly shaken after her latest encounter with the voice. She felt so dirty, and needed a shower. After everyone figured out which bets were nullified and which weren't (Eighteen ironically won the most, and had kept up with all bets), each went back to their respective homes, until only Vegeta remained.  
  
Vegeta looked around for a minute, pondering his sister's strange encounters. He was worried, and she seemed to have stopped confiding in him as much. Well, he knew who she DID confide in, and it wasn't Chichi. Vegeta paced around, until he gave up his search in frustration. "All right, brat. I know you're around here somewhere. Everyone else is gone, so show yourself."  
  
A few meters off to the side, a sheepish-looking Goten suddenly appeared. Kami, he looked so much like his father. "How did you know I was here, Vegeta?" he asked weakly.  
  
"Hmph. There was one too many ki-signatures around. You were the only one it could be."  
  
"Is that how you sense ki, Vegeta? Counting ki signatures?"  
  
"Well, I found you, didn't I? Everyone else was fooled by your little trick, since they look for each individual. Did you learn that trick from my sister?" Vegeta asked, his voice tightening.  
  
Goten smiled again. "Yeah. It's an invisible ki-shield." He slumped a bit in fatigue. "Takes a lot out of you, though. I thought you all would never leave. I couldn't fly away invisible."  
  
Vegeta stared the young man down until Goten couldn't stand it anymore. "Um, is this about Jita? I know you probably don't like us seeing each other, since she is your sister and I'm 'the spawn of Kakarrot,' but . . ."  
  
"Slow down, boy," Vegeta interrupted. He gave Goten a hard look, making Goten gulp in the menacing silence. "Jita is a grown woman, much older than you. I don't have a problem with that. She is long past the age where I have to take care of her. But you saw what happened today. There's something bothering her - something dangerous. And I don't see a way to get rid of it. You're the only one she'll truly open up with, and she seems to trust you. So I do NOT have any problems with your relationship."  
  
Goten seemed to sag with relief. "That's . . . good to know."  
  
But before he knew it, Vegeta had crossed the distance between them and was pulling him by his collar, forcing the taller boy to be eye level. The prince's glare scared Goten to the very core of his being. Vegeta's voice came in low, dangerous tones. "But if you EVER do anything to hurt my sister, I will break every bone in your body. I will make you beg for mercy, and then I will kill you. You'll be at other's mercy if they want to resurrect you."  
  
Goten was frozen, not even struggling. You did NOT mess with Vegeta when he got like this. Sweat was rolling down his face. "Gotcha," he replied with a shaky voice. "I won't hurt her. I promise."  
  
Vegeta released the young man. "See that you don't," he ended with a smirk, his own way of showing that there were no hard feelings. "And before you go trying to help with her problems, solve your own first."  
  
For the first time Goten noticed that Goku had come back, finally sensing his son's presence. Goku landed a few feet away, having missed the topic of Goten and Vegeta's exchange. He didn't say anything, at least not with words. But his eyes were pleading: 'Please come home, son.'  
  
But Goten would have none of it. With a murderous glare, and also without words, he shot into the air. Goku didn't dare follow. He just stood there, looking wounded.  
  
Vegeta shook his head at the exchange, but didn't say anything about it. It was none of his business. Instead, he walked over to Goku, arms folded. "Spar?"  
  
Goku continued staring at the direction Goten had left for a moment until he shook himself out of it. Quickly adopting his customary smile, he nodded his head. "Spar."  
  
*****  
  
"You're in a good mood today," Goku commented casually as he threw Vegeta to the ground, dodging a few ki-blasts.  
  
"What makes you think that, Kakarrot?" Vegeta replied, appearing behind Goku. Feinting a kick, he used a double-fist to drive Goku crashing to the ground. Goku quickly recovered, and the two began a close assault.  
  
"Well, you're not cursing me." Goku took a punch to the face. "And I think you're pulling your punches," he added mischievously, just for Vegeta's reaction.  
  
"Fool! I'm not pulling my punches!" Vegeta retorted. "You're just numb from the beating I've given you."  
  
Goku just laughed and responded by getting in a kick that sent Vegeta flying. "Did you beat Jita or something? I heard she knocked you unconscious the other night."  
  
Vegeta smiled ruefully. "Took her two hours to regain consciousness."  
  
A half an hour later, both Saiyans were nearing the senzu stage, so they called the fight and dropped to the ground, deciding to recover a little before they dragged themselves to their respective homes. Vegeta leaned against a tree and let the familiar drained feeling overtake him. He watched as Goku laid on the ground, stretching his tired muscles. Vegeta didn't try to initiate a conversation. He never did. Usually Goku would, and lately more often than not the prince would go along with it. Yet another disturbing effect Earth and their humanized Saiyans had had on him.  
  
But this time Goku wasn't speaking, leaving the exhausted silence unbroken. In fact, Goku had been acting strangely of late. The naïve, painfully cheerful man was actually . . . brooding. He kept staring in one direction, his face unreadable. Of course, if he ever realized what he was doing, he would make a sudden change to cheerful mode. And people accused Vegeta of hiding his feelings. Did anyone even notice Kakarrot's attitude of late? And why was Vegeta noticing? Did he care?  
  
Yet the Earth infection prodded him further, and Vegeta knew that resistance was futile. So he gave in. "What the hell is the matter with you, Kakarrot?" As Goku sat up, breaking out of his daze, and gave Vegeta a cheerful grin, Vegeta rolled his eyes. "And don't give me that cheerful crap. You're only using it as a front."  
  
Before him, Goku's smile melted, which had to be the saddest sight in the world. 'The woman would compare him to a barking domestic animal, though I'm never sure why.' Goku's face was again unreadable as he stared toward the south.  
  
Then, out of the blue, Goku asked, "Vegeta, do you think I'm a bad father?"  
  
"What?" came Vegeta's incredulous reply.  
  
Goku faced Vegeta, his expression troubled. "I leave my family for months at a time without a word to them. I stayed dead when I knew Chichi was pregnant. I sent both Gohan and Goten to fight battles I should have been able to win. I let them die . . ."  
  
"Kakarrot, you're asking ME?"  
  
"At least you stayed around. Trunks grew up with a father."  
  
Vegeta crossed his arms. "I stayed around, but only just. I'm not exactly what you would call an affectionate father. I'm sure Trunks sometimes wondered if I even care about him. The first time I held him was right before I killed myself. And then I knocked him unconscious. So I say again, you're asking ME?"  
  
"But you fought your own battle. You didn't stop and wait until all your children had been killed." Goku smiled sadly. "And you've probably seen my sons more than I have."  
  
"Kakarrot, self-pity does not become you. Goten will work out his own problems. His problem is not so much hatred of you; it's more like he's trying to find himself. He's been in other's people's shadows for a while now, and those who are second place find it easy to direct frustrations to those who are the most powerful." Vegeta eyes Goku significantly. Didn't take a genius to fathom how much experience Vegeta was speaking from.  
  
Goku again looked to the south. "He's getting a lot stronger. I just wish I knew more than that. But I can't get near him. He always hides whenever I look for him. Does Trunks know anything about him?"  
  
Vegeta looked at Goku in surprise. Apparently the man really didn't talk to anyone anymore - not even Chichi. "I hear less from Trunks and more from Jita. That mate of yours did tell you that Jita was spending all her free time with your brat, did she not?"  
  
It was Goku's turn to look surprised. He really hadn't known. Goten . . . and Jita? It was bizarre, to say the least. Although, upon reflection, it was no more bizarre than confiding in Vegeta, of all people. But how could he have not noticed before? True, he didn't really think of those things that much, but he at least noticed things, before.  
  
Maybe it was all the time spent alone. Before, he had felt comfortable with everyone. He felt at peace with himself and his family. Now, Goku didn't know what to feel. Ever since Goten's outburst. Usually he couldn't remember exact words, but Goten's words had burned into his brain.  
  
"You know, every time you've reached out to me, or talked to me, I can only think of all those years that I couldn't imagine why you would choose the afterlife over being with your family. Did you even know I was born? No, you were happily skipping along Snake Way. I can only think about the pain Mom and Gohan went through, especially when I looked exactly like you, and how they tried to hide it from me. I can only think of when I was told that my brother was dead, and my best friend was told that his father was dead, and when we had the audacity to feel a little grief, all you could do was yell at us to shut up, and then ask what was wrong when we were angry. And then leave. All I can think about is all those years you were alive, but spent your time away from home, training, months - YEARS - on end. The whole father-son bonding thing, it was too little too late. Well, you won't have to make up for lost time, or inconvenience yourself in any way on my account. I may not be off to college, but I'm leaving anyway. Just don't follow me, and we'll get along fine."  
  
Alright, Goten had a point, but everything he said could be explained. He wanted to be wished back, but it was impossible with the dragonballs. And Goten HAD to fight Buu. And Goku couldn't have stayed on Earth; he had used up all his time with the level three transformation. And Goku had tried all those years, but he had to train. And he had to be alone when he trained sometimes.  
  
'No,' Goku contradicted himself, 'Goten was right.' He should have come back to life. He should have been there. He shouldn't have sent Goten off to fight Buu; the boy was only seven. Even Goku hadn't been fighting all that hard at seven. And when he got the chance to make up for all those years of being dead, he'd squandered them on training.  
  
Goku had analyzed those words so often, not even needing to write the words down. Not that he could have easily anyway. He could read, of course, but writing was a different story. Grandpa Gohan had not taught the child how to write and he had gone through much of his childhood without any opportunity or need of writing. Both Bulma and Chichi, and even Master Roshi, had tried to teach him, but had eventually given up. When he had gotten frustrated, Bulma had told him that the muscles in his hands were extremely difficult to condition to writing, since he had not learned as a small child. Strange that hands so adept at fighting couldn't even master so basic a skill. Which was why Chichi was so obsessive about the boys' study habits. Didn't want them to be like their illiterate father. Never mind that he could read just fine.  
  
Goku didn't truly understand Goten. Goku'd had a father, albeit adoptive, for the first several years of his life. He hadn't felt the pressures to act normally and control his strength. He hadn't even been as strong as Goten, though he'd always been the strongest. His early life had centered on training, hunting for dragonballs, and killing soldiers. He'd never been dead as a child. He'd never been forced to fight when he didn't want to, because he always had.  
  
But both of his boys had faced all this and more. Gohan had seen more death in the first ten years of his life than most people saw in their entire lives. He'd fought every major villain. And he hadn't even enjoyed fighting. Goten . . .  
  
In point of view, most people had gone without their fathers. Most had been forced to fight, even as children. Many had died. Why was Goten reacting so differently from the other Saiyans? No one else had reacted so badly. No one else had run away . . .  
  
His face reflecting his revelation, Goku suddenly understood. Goten was not simply a rebellious adolescent. And Goten didn't hate him. He had just been denied his nature for so long that he had grown resentful. When all he needed was some solitude. Away from his family and friends. There were so many times when Goku just hadn't come home, and hadn't truly understood why. It was just a Saiyan need. Of course, Vegeta spent his life in semi-solitude, preferring to close himself off from everyone. And even Gohan had spent some time alone, though demi-Saiyans tended to have less of a tendency to this. But Goten . . . he wasn't as human as the other demi-Saiyans.  
  
Goten's life had been filled with family and friends. Chichi seemed to smother him, and the boy spent the rest of his time with either Gohan or Trunks. He'd been in one major battle, and that wasn't even as fully himself. No wonder he was the way he was. Goku should have seen it before - seen the longing that Goten couldn't have understood. To fight - to prove himself . . .  
  
To become a warrior.  
  
Vegeta pushed himself from his seated position on the ground, stretching his muscles out and grimacing at the pain lingering from a particularly nasty punch from Goku. He looked at his rival and friend, who was still in deep thought. Somehow, Goku's self-doubt disturbed Vegeta. Goku's ever cheerfulness and confidence was one of those bedrocks of life. But Vegeta had said all he was willing to say. He wasn't a bloody therapist, after all. He was literally a bloody warrior who should have his own head examined. After, of course, a shower and a lot of food. However, as he was leaving the earth-infection couldn't resist a few more words. "Kakarrot, stop feeling sorry for yourself and go home to your mate. The brat will be fine, probably better than my own."  
  
Goku smiled as Vegeta took off, noting with competitive satisfaction that he looked a bit weaker than Goku felt. For a minute he considered looking for Goten, or maybe just going off alone, but right now neither held a special appeal to him. He found it strange to be taking Vegeta's advice, and even stranger for Vegeta to be giving advice, but it made sense. He hadn't really talked to Chichi for a while now, and wasn't even aware of Jita apparent friendship with Chichi. Plus, he was starving, so he leisurely flew home.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to my reviewers: Ssjgoddesschico, Omega (prepare to wait some more. I use romance sparingly, and it's usually not sappy.), tim333 (the wait is over, the strife is here!), anonymous cat (I kind of liked the kiss myself, although I've never experienced that type of kiss), and last, but certainly not least, Dark Wolf (that's interesting. Whenever you point out that I'm rushing, you're referring to my earlier writing, and whenever you say that it's well paced, you're referring to my recent writing. I'll be interested in seeing what you think of this chapter, since all of it is recent.) Au revoir! 


	26. Not Ready

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Just a short update. Nothing like my last update. But I spent part of Thanksgiving writing this, so I decided to put it out. It does get a lot said. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 25: Not Ready  
  
  
  
Jita watched intently, downright nervous, almost scared, for his reaction. She had told him everything about her, and he was so nonjudgmental, so understanding. But still, this was completely different.  
  
Goten scrunched his brow a bit, completely enjoying drawing out the torture. Finally, after he'd had enough satisfaction from her expression, he ended it. "This . . ." he said as Jita leaned forward, "is wonderful."  
  
Jita sat back in relief. "You really think so? You're not just saying that?" she asked as she served her own plate. To which Goten smiled and, more Goku-like than usual Saiyan-like, wolfed the food down. Jita laughed and began to eat as well.  
  
Goten slowed in his eating a bit. "I guess those cooking lessons with Mom really did pay off. It tastes just like Mom's cooking."  
  
"It would have tasted better if I hadn't had to warm it up again when I got here. I thought teleporting would keep it from getting cold, but I was mistaken. And contrary to popular belief, the lessons from Chichi were not that bad. She only acts the way she does to keep control of you men."  
  
"So, you actually got the better end of the deal." Piccolo had actually tried to get Goten to take Pan and Bra for a few hours, but Goten had taken much mischievous satisfaction in telling Piccolo that it would not be honorable to go back on an agreement. Plus, the two girls had practically fallen in love with their new playmate. While Piccolo had been speaking to Goten, the chibis were busy making his cape billow out and making whooshing noises. Jita had actually laughed when Goten had told her that. And that had made it all worthwhile.  
  
Jita filled her plate again. "You should have been there. It will not happen again."  
  
"What makes you think I wasn't there?" Goten smiled at her confused expression. "Why didn't you use ki invisibility, anyway? You didn't use instant transmission, either."  
  
Ki invisibility. A useful, yet draining, technique. Plus you had to be perfectly still. "I needed to conserve energy. Besides, I had no problem with variety and originality."  
  
"Ha! You were pretty dang close to Piccolo in control. It's just that that's his specialty. My dad's the best at everything and he still can't beat Piccolo's ki control."  
  
Jita eyed Goten, noting the bitterness in the last sentence. No matter how much of an anchor Goten seemed to the girl, he still had problems. Parental issues. She got that. Her own father had tried to have her killed and had sold her brother into slavery. Not that Kakarrot was in any way similar to King Vegeta, but she understood Goten's feelings of inferiority. And the feeling of everyone practically worshipping his father and brother. That's how it had been for the first few years of her life - living in the shadows of her father and Vegeta. That's why, despite the strangeness of it all, she was trying to help him. At least he was telling her these things. For some reason they just had nothing to hide from each other. As they had come to trust one another, she'd found that he was screwed up enough to understand her.  
  
Of course, she had the record of being screwed up. After all, she'd sold her . . .  
  
Goten watched Jita adopt the same far-away look she always got when she was brooding on hell. He wondered if he got that far-away look when he was brooding. Maybe so, but never the inner torture. That fire of pain he could only occasionally dispel from her mind. He could practically hear that horrible voice talking to her, and knew it must be doubly torturous not to respond. He admired Jita for that. Of course, he admired her for everything, right down to every angry glare she gave him.  
  
But the voice just scared him. He wanted to protect Jita - to keep both body and soul safe, but he knew he couldn't. You had to be pure good to defeat pure evil - and he couldn't claim that. Goten's bitterness was too great. And he'd let it grow, from a small child at the 25th tournament to now. The bitterness and restlessness had consumed him - ruled him. He could fool everyone else, though Trunks had suspicions. But Goten had masked everything with cheerfulness, even, ironically, studying and imitating his father. It had worked out perfectly . . .  
  
At least, until, at the age of ten, Goten had lost the ability to ride Nimbus.  
  
Goku had been the only one to witness it. Over time Goku was finally able to see past Goten's façade, so the boy stopped putting it up when he was with his father. Sometimes he'd been perversely relieved to only have Goku around, so that he would no longer have to pretend. And Goku didn't say anything - barely even noticed. Or maybe just didn't want to notice - didn't want to take the responsibility.  
  
Falling through Nimbus had really hurt. Not in the physical sense, since he had recovered quickly by flying, but emotionally. Goten knew he wasn't pure anymore. He knew the full extent of what he had lost. The legacy of the pure-hearted warrior that had passed from Goku to Gohan. And now probably from Gohan to Pan. And Goten had lost it, and could never reclaim it.  
  
Maybe it wasn't anger at his father. Maybe it was shame.  
  
"The fire burned out."  
  
Goten jerked from his ponderings at Jita's voice. He'd been so lost in thought he'd completely forgotten about the fire. It laid there, only a wisp of smoke rising from the ashes. He considered just leaving it, but he noticed Jita shivering, so he started to rebuild the fire.  
  
"By the way. Why are you always so cold, anyway?" Goten asked as her shivering subsided.  
  
Jita, startled, cursed her own weakness. She hadn't meant for him to notice, but she couldn't help it. It was just so cold. "It was hot in hell. Not the fire and brimstone kind of hot I read in Earth legends of hell. Nothing so dramatic. More like a perpetual hot summer day. I got used to it."  
  
"You'd probably be comfortable living at the Kame House."  
  
"Don't you think it's crowded enough already?"  
  
Goten laughed, and then sank into silence, occasionally poking at the fire to keep it going. She rarely talked about hell so casually. "So what exactly makes hell so terrible if it's not the heat? I've heard from dad that it doesn't look so bad," he said conversationally.  
  
Jita drew her knees to her chest. "The people," she replied simply.  
  
This time the silence was more absolute and less comfortable. Goten felt like smacking himself. Why couldn't he just keep his big mouth shut? 'Let's see,' he thought sarcastically, 'how can I make her feel as bad as possible. Oh, yeah! Talk about the place she spent in absolute torment! That's a great idea!'  
  
Jita watched his thoughts and emotions play on his face - guessing, almost reading each thought. He was afraid he'd cause her to go into another fit - to cause her pain. Didn't he know that she was used to pain? Didn't he know the fits were beyond anyone's control? Apparently not. But why was he so worried about her! 'The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things . . .' The inane rhyme ram through her head. Where had she heard it? Oh, yeah. Bra had forced Vegeta to read it to her. But the walrus had a point. She had to ask Goten something serious.  
  
"Goten," Jita began cautiously, getting his attention, "I know you've thought of this. Humans, and part humans, talk and think almost of nothing else. I want a straight answer. Do you love me?"  
  
"Do I . . . of course I love you!"  
  
"No, not 'of course.' Why? How? I . . . don't understand."  
  
Goten was really confused now - and panicked. Was this her way of ending the relationship? "I don't know what you mean."  
  
Jita could no longer stand to look in his eyes - those soulful eyes. "I'm dirty. Blood of thousands on my hands. Do you know what that means? I killed. Hardened warriors, helpless bystanders, innocent children. Babies, Goten. I killed them all, with hardly a thought. I'm dirty. I was forced into the quarters of almost every elite warrior stronger than myself. I stupidly allowed myself to be raped, from the age of fifteen. I aborted a baby. A baby, Goten. I'm dirty. I sold my soul. I gave myself to selfish revenge, and let myself be tortured for years. Goten, how could you love me? Don't you know what I am? I haven't hidden it from you. Why won't you scare away?"  
  
Goten grabbed Jita, pulling her into a rough embrace, silencing her. She was near tears, but she wouldn't allow that. "I love you," he choked out through his own repressed tears. "I can't let you keep torturing yourself. You're stronger than that." Goten grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look into his eyes. "I love you. You're the only one in the universe screwed up enough for me to understand. No matter how much you hate yourself, I don't hate you. I know this sounds unbelievably sappy, and we can both gag later, but this is for real. I want you to know what we have - what we share. I love you for every word you say. I love you for everything you do. I love you for your power and your beauty. I love you for your past, present, and future. We can't escape - we can't get rid of it. I've tried. You've tried. I don't know why. You deserve a better man than me, and to prove that point I want to keep you to myself anyway. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It doesn't matter if you go to hell. I'll follow you. See if I don't. So I don't want to hear any more talk of my hating you. Understand?"  
  
Jita was stunned. She didn't even try to twist out of his grip. She'd wanted to talk, but she hadn't expected this. His stare was pinning her in place. For once she couldn't even hear the voice. Just Goten. "So you're saying," she began slowly, "you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"  
  
The anger left Goten's face, but not the intensity. "I guess I'm kind of asking it. On this planet we call it marriage. Will you? Marry me, I mean? You don't have to if you don't want to," he started babbling. "I mean, if you don't feel the same way, or if you're not ready for it, or . . ."  
  
Jita brought her hand to Goten's lips, silencing him. "This - marriage. I've read about it. I . . . I can't believe I'm saying this . . . I want to, but . . . no. No. At least, not right now. I'm in college and you're living in the wilderness and . . ."  
  
This time Goten interrupted. "Gotcha," he said, both distraught and disappointed. "Tell ya what? Why don't you tell me what needs to happen before we get married? That way you won't have to say no again. I'll stop pestering you about it."  
  
Jita ran her fingers through her hair. That sounded reasonable. Besides, he looked so broken and vulnerable before her. She'd actually been pondering this for a while now. She'd wanted to become mates with Goten, but she felt unprepared for it. "All right. I'll tell you. One." She held up her forefinger. "You have to beat me in a fight. And I won't make it easy," she added with a smile.  
  
Goten smiled back. "You won't have to." That part would definitely be fun.  
  
"Two." She added her middle finger, counting off. "I need to finish college. I just have one more year, and I don't need to be married when I have so many difficult classes."  
  
Goten nodded, but was then concerned when he saw Jita struggling for words. "What, Jita? What's the third one?"  
  
Jita steeled herself. She didn't know how Goten would react, but it had to be said. "Three and final." She added her ring finger, the finger that would hold the symbol of their union. "You have to finish your wilderness training and reconcile with your father."  
  
Her words had been rushed, but every syllable had seemed like a blow to Goten. Reconcile with his father? Impossible. Not after an entire life of estrangement. How could he reconcile when they'd never been close? It was - well - impossible. More likely for Vegeta to join the Boy Scouts.  
  
But again his emotions were showing plainly on his face, and Jita was prepared. "Goten, I . . . never know my father. Not really. I know he was the king, and I know he tried to have me killed and sold Vegeta to Frieza. I also know he died while openly defying Frieza and trying to save Vegeta. I always hated him, and never got a chance to know him. I . . . well . . . I regret that. But you have a chance that I don't. Use it. It's not as hopeless as you think. Nothing is hopeless on this planet - not even death."  
  
She paused, and winced, knowing her own death to be hopeless. Goten noticed it, but couldn't say anything. The emotions had gotten too thick at Goten's peaceful wasteland. They were both hurting. She was right. How could they get married now? They . . . weren't ready. Not in the least. He knew he had to grow up. It was just so . . . hard. He felt Jita leave, but couldn't find the energy to look up, or to stop her. He shook his head violently, overwhelmed by his own thoughts, and jumped up. He took one more look at the fire before smothering it. Enough sitting around. Enough introspection. Time to train.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Next chapter I'm writing will be among studying for finals. You may be able to tell. Definitely putting it out before Christmas vacation. Thanks to all my reviewers: anonymous cat (I think Vegeta's sweet too. Goodness, I hope I haven't made him too sweet. Gotta be careful about that.), Omega (didn't have to wait too long), Dark Wolf (*wipes up drool and hands Wolf biscuit* Leftovers from homecooking for one of my favorite authors. Piccolo's the man, and so is Pikkon.), and tim333. Hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving! 


	27. Finals

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z . . . or the Dave Matthew's Band, or Chistina Aguilera, or Trigger Happy TV, or 'Reign of Fire' (thank God), or 'Angela's Ashes, or Mystery Science Theatre 3000, or a moose. Just trying to cover all the pop culture references and furry creatures I do not own.  
  
Author's Notes: This is a finals treat for all of you students out there. I wrote this in between studying for geology and 18th century literature, occasionally after staying up all night and oversleeping for an 8:00 exam. I hope you appreciate my attempts at humor. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 26: Finals  
  
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.  
  
The rhythmic thumping was almost soothing to the Saiyan girl, if it wasn't for the growing sensation of pain on her forehead. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to beat her head on her desk.  
  
"Maybe I could just kill the professor. It would really be a blessing to this planet."  
  
But no, homicide was not the answer. Someone would still probably require the paper, or she'd have to retake the class next semester. The assignment wouldn't be so bad, if only she didn't have those two tests, and worse, that speech . . .  
  
'Maybe I should just scream.'  
  
"AAAAUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Jita's head jerked up from the growing dent in her desk, wondering if that was her. But no, it was one of the girls next door. Now was the season of mid-year finals, when tempers were short, nerves were frayed, and life consisted of coffee, pizza, work, and nervous breakdowns. Personal hygiene, sleep, and human contact were optional. And screaming was irrelevant.  
  
At the knock at the door, Jita slammed her book closed. "If you're here to die, you've come to the right place!"  
  
The door opened to admit a haggard purple-haired young man. "I wouldn't turn it down, but I'd really like to see you try."  
  
"Trunks, I really don't have the time or the energy to talk, argue, spar, or whatever else you're here for. So go away."  
  
Trunks walked up to the computer, glancing over the paper. "But, Jita, you've finished it. You've got fourteen pages. That's all you need. You've even got a bibliography. What are you still stressing over?"  
  
"I . . . don't like it. I was going to edit it again."  
  
"How many times have you edited that?"  
  
"Three."  
  
Without any further words, Trunks saved the document and shut down the computer.  
  
"Hey! What are you doing?"  
  
Trunks pulled the books out of her hands. "I'm saving your sanity and mine. Mom and Dad gave me money, and we're going out. No studying tonight. I absolutely forbid it," he ended, with a sweeping gesture, accidentally throwing the books across the room.  
  
Jita laughed a bit. "Are you intoxicated?"  
  
Trunks rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "It's called lack of sleep. And caffeine. And fourth year business courses. Take your pick. Anyway, get your coat. Unless, of course, you'd think Goten would get jealous."  
  
Jita pulled on a coat and scarf. "Might I remind you that you're my nephew? And I am on no leash. Where are we going?"  
  
"Never mind. You'll see when we get there." Then Trunks practically pulled her out of the room, barely giving her a chance to grab her purse and lock the door. Jita pointedly ignored a "mandatory" hallway meeting for residents. 'What are they going to do? Throw me out?' In ten seconds flat they were running through the doorway to Trunks's car. Trunks cranked up and got on the road, still not telling their destination.  
  
When they got past the worst of campus traffic, Trunks turned on the radio and started turning through stations.  
  
"Hey, wait. Leave it there," Jita interjected. "That's Dave Matthew's." In her brain-fried state, she started singing along. Trunks found nothing out of the ordinary with this in his own brain-fried state, and joined in on the chorus.  
  
"I am no superman. I have no answers for you. I am no hero. Oh, that's for sure. But I do know one thing. Where you are is where I wanna be. Where are you going?"  
  
Unfortunately, that was the end of the song, and a pop song was up next. Trunks started switching stations again as Jita stared out the window. "I love that song."  
  
"What? Christina . . . whatever her last name is? Here, you do this. Traffic's crazy." Trunks braked as someone cut him off.  
  
Jita started turning the dial. "No. The other song. And I think pop took over all the radio stations." In disgust, she pressed play on the CD player. The sounds of "Night on Bare Mountain" blared out, scaring both Jita and Trunks to death. She quickly pressed stop. "A little dramatic for finals week, isn't it?"  
  
Trunks took a right to bypass the residential area. "Oh, yeah. That's not mine. Dad borrowed my car to take Bra shopping when his car was getting worked on. That's his music. You should hear the rest of it. They're all like that. I burned that compilation for him. Enough to make you want to suicide if you're like us already, which you are, so don't." He paused to try to decipher what he'd said. "Dad'll probably want that back. Oh, here we are."  
  
They pulled up into a place called Valentino's - a nice looking place. Jita got out of the car and followed Trunks in. The place smelled vaguely of pizza, only twenty times better. A waiter approached them, holding menus shaped like the boot of Italy. The waiter looked to be college student that was desperately trying to stave off the signs of stress and fatigue so apparent in the two Saiyans. "How many?"  
  
Trunks looked about, confused. "How many what?"  
  
"People in you party."  
  
"Oh. We're not having a party. We just want food."  
  
The waiter rolled his eyes. "Table or booth?"  
  
"Kami, I hope so."  
  
"Smoking or non?"  
  
It was Jita's turn. "As far from smoking as possible. In fact, cram all the smokers into a little box and throw them out the window. Then let them go down the drain, wash out to sea, and spend the rest of their lives away from civilization wishing they hadn't smoked during meals so they could actually remember the taste of food as they waste away from starvation."  
  
The waiter was leading them to a booth as Jita was talking. He handed them the awkward menus. "My name is Josh and I'll be your server tonight." He pointed to Trunks. "Juvenile and witty. Points for spontaneity. And you," as he pointed to Jita, "A little more mature, with a social message, but infinitely more disturbing. I suggest food and drink here, and then sleep to both of you. Now, what can I get you to drink?"  
  
Trunks shot the waiter a bemused look, but decided not to push it. "Dr. Pepper."  
  
"And for you?"  
  
"Well, I would ask for B positive, but how 'bout just water?"  
  
Trunks laughed as the waiter walked away. Jita actually had a sense of humor when she was delirious with fatigue. He watched as she frowned at the menu. "What's wrong?"  
  
"What language is this?"  
  
Trunks looked at his own menu. "It's normal. Oh, but the dish names are Italian."  
  
Jita shot him a look over her menu. "It's not very useful to know that a salad comes with these dishes if I don't know what the dishes are."  
  
Trunks laughed rather giddily. "Oh, well, try the manicotti. Or anything Alfredo."  
  
After they got their drinks and ordered, the two students fell into silence, staring dumbly at points off into space, until a yawn made Trunks jolt back into reality. "So, Jita. Watcha gonna do after you get you degree?"  
  
Jita sipped her water. "No idea. My advisor's given up on me. None of the options she suggested appeal to me."  
  
"You could be a professor, like Gohan."  
  
"No." Jita paused as the waiter brought the food. "No, I don't think I'll remain in college. I'd much rather study and learn on my own. I couldn't stand another few years of this. And I suppose it would be a stupid question to ask where you're going," she asked wryly.  
  
"Yes, it is stupid. I'll be headed straight to Capsule Corp. Mom said as soon as she knew I could handle it, she'd retire her post of CEO and leave it to me. She wants to concentrate on her inventions. And she said something about getting old. Which is ridiculous."  
  
"I don't blame her." Jita took a bite out of her manicotti. "This IS good. Anyway. I can see her reasoning." Jita paused as the waiter filled their glasses. "I worked so hard to reclaim the title of princess, but if Planet Vegeta was still around, I couldn't take royal duties very long. I'm a warrior, not an administrator."  
  
"You mean you can't be both? That's what I'm planning. That's what I've been doing my entire life." Trunks took a sip of his drink. "Heir to Capsule Corp and heir to my father's legacy. Be a human and a Saiyan. I've been two things at once ever since I was born."  
  
Jita stifled a yawn. "Well, it works for you. But . . ."  
  
"Is everything alright?" the waiter interrupted.  
  
"Yes, everything's fine," Jita snapped. The waiter left, looking somewhat annoyed. "I swear, if he interrupts me again, I'll blast him."  
  
Trunks laughed as he shoveled pasta in his mouth. "What were you saying?"  
  
Jita frowned, trying to force her sleep-deprived brain to function on higher levels. "I don't remember." She shrugged it off. "Probably wasn't that important."  
  
The two finished their rather large meal, at least by human standards, ate dessert, and left the place. Trunks was sure to leave a nice tip for the poor waiter, who had suffered enough.  
  
Jita stretched, waiting for Trunks to unlock the car. "Where to next?"  
  
Trunks fumbled for the keys. "I hated to blow my allowance on more food in that place, but I'm still hungry."  
  
Jita had hoped he would say that. "The cafeteria is staying open later hours this week. Race you over there."  
  
"Hey, wait a minute!" Trunks yelled as she took off. He quickly capsulized his car and raced after her.  
  
*****  
  
Ethel considered herself very experienced in the behavior of college students. She was a twenty-year head cook of the Chikyuu University cafeteria. She knew every strange combination of food - from pizza and green beans to pasta with chili sauce. She had seen a girl live solely on bananas, and then drop out of college suffering from malnutrition. She could break up food fights with a single bellow. She had cleaned up every mess imaginable. She had seen pre-med students chew on a napkin for a full hour before realizing they were getting no sustenance from that particular pastime. Ethel had, in effect, seen it all.  
  
But this took the cake. Literally. The carrot, the chocolate, the strawberry, the caramel. The pie, too. As well as every meat, vegetable, and bread she had cooked, thinking it would last her the night. But how could she have known that her cafeteria was going to be invaded by aliens?  
  
She sweat dropped at the sound of 'more please.' How much were these people going to eat?  
  
As the purple-headed boy took the last of the macaroni and cheese, something in Ethel snapped. Maybe it was the disbelief of such an appetite from two such normal-looking young people. Maybe it was the prospect of more people demanding more food when there wasn't any and she had to cook it and . . .  
  
"Isn't there any more?"  
  
Next thing Jita knew, the woman turned and ran, screaming into the cold dark night.  
  
Trunks looked over in mild curiosity. "There goes another one."  
  
Jita ate her last bite. "All I did was ask a simple question. I'm not that hungry anymore anyway."  
  
The two stood up, stretching, and leaving the remaining dishes for the poor leader-less kitchen crew.  
  
"So, what do you want to do now?"  
  
Trunks frowned, thinking, and then grinned. Suddenly, he hit Jita on the shoulder. "You're It!"  
  
Jita rolled her eyes as he flew away. 'What childishness.' And, yet, she found herself chasing after him, ignoring the cries of people who suddenly realized there were flying people.  
  
"Oh, my Kami, I'm going crazy! There are people flying!"  
  
Momentarily forgetting the game of tag, Jita landed in front of the poor harassed student who had just spoken and formed a ki ball in her palms. "No. You are not crazy. I am the Angel of Death. Fear me!"  
  
Trunks fell to the ground in laughter as the boy ran for his life. Under ordinary circumstances, it wouldn't have been so funny, but now it was hilarious. "Hey! That looks fun. My turn!"  
  
Jita smirked at the fleeing boy. "Copycat. Fine, but you can't do better than me."  
  
"Wanna bet?"  
  
"No. The last bet I lost I had to take cooking lessons from Chichi. If that isn't an object lesson against gambling, I don't know what is."  
  
They were strolling during this conversation, and they found themselves at the library. "Here's your chance," Jita said grandly.  
  
Trunks made a big show of cracking his knuckles and neck. Strolling confidently into the library, he pulled out his cell phone and stood in the middle of all the study groups and half-asleep students. Then, in his most horrible British voice, he screamed into his cell phone, "HELLO!!"  
  
Quite a few heads turned, and several people came back into reality. Jita was struggling to hold back laughter.  
  
"I'M IN THE LIBRARY! I SAID, I'M IN THE LIBRARY!" He paused a second for effect. "RUBBISH! PURE RUBBISH! ALRIGHT! CIAO!"  
  
Several people lost the battle with holding back laughter, Jita included, and a mob of librarians were practically taking up arms to combat the enemy of the silence. Knowing this was probably a battle he couldn't win, Trunks ran out of the library as fast as he could, so that everyone thought he had disappeared. Not to be out-done, Jita bowed grandly and said, "This message has been brought to you by Insane Saiyans Anonymous. Please leave contributions by the door on the way out. You may all go back to your regular drudgery." As soon as the librarian mob, growing more irritated by the standing ovation from everyone around, turned their attention toward her. Jita took this time to follow suit with Trunks and make a hasty escape.  
  
She found Trunks not far outside. "I saw the whole thing," he choked out through laughter. "We are both geniuses!"  
  
Jita watched him, reveling in this strange victory. Suddenly she pushed him down. "Now you're It!"  
  
It didn't matter if the game was childish. It didn't matter if they were only acting this way because they were delirious with brain-fatigue. Only the moment mattered. For once in such a long time, Jita was having fun. It was almost as if she was reclaiming the childhood she had missed - been cheated out of. She knew that when she was once again in her right mind, she would not allow herself this release. So, she reveled in the soaring feeling of freedom from herself, let go, and played.  
  
After about an hour of tag, the two Saiyans were thoroughly exhausted. They had even transformed for the game, and now they needed to stop. Jita slumped to the ground, and Trunks simply laid on his back, looking at the stars. Out of habit, he located Planet Vegeta. "Hey, Jita."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Trunks was going to ask her about Planet Vegeta, since he usually got precious little out of his father. He especially wanted to know about his grandparents, and his dad before earth, but stopped himself. Doing that might break the mood, and Jita was in such a good mood right now.  
  
"What is it, Trunks?"  
  
"Umm, what do you want to do now? I thought maybe watching a movie, but there's nothing good on in theaters. Wanna just rent one?"  
  
"There's no way I'm going back to my room to watch it. I spent nine hours in my room today - just studying."  
  
Trunks made a face. "Got a point there. I don't want to see my apartment either. Tell ya what. We'll go to Capsule Corp."  
  
Jita crossed her legs and stretched her back. "We won't be disturbing anyone?" What she meant was, 'Will Vegeta be there to see me acting in such a matter?'  
  
"Nah. Mom's on a business trip, Dad's on one of his loner kicks, and Bra's staying over at Gohan and Videl's. 'Cept for security and stuff, the place is deserted. Hey! Ya think Goten might come? I haven't seen him in a long time."  
  
"I think so. I'll get him." Jita stood up and quickly felt out Goten's ki. Usual place, of course.  
  
"Hey, wait. I'll go ahead and get the movie. You just meet me at Capsule Corp." Trunks walked over to the road (they were still on campus) and decapsulized his car. "What movie do you want?"  
  
Jita shrugged. "Whatever. Something mindless." Then she took off.  
  
Trunks shook his head. He could have flown, but he still tried to avoid doing that in the city. He could imagine the headlines. "HEIR TO CC FLIES" Trunks laughed at this thought as he fell into the car. He knew he shouldn't be driving while he was so tired, but the feeling of indestructibility was inherent in him, so onward he drove, thankful the traffic had died down in the late hour. And happy. He was taking a break from studying, and he was going to see his best friend. Life was good. And to hell with finals.  
  
*****  
  
"AAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"  
  
Goten slumped, and had the crazy desire to bang his head against something. It was so frustrating. He'd hit . . . a wall. A kind of barrier in his power. His level hadn't risen in two months, no matter what he tried. He couldn't even figure out if the barrier was physical or mental. Maybe a little bit of both. And it was driving him crazy!  
  
"A bit frustrated, are we?"  
  
Goten looked tiredly over at Jita, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He smiled. He was incredibly happy to see her. "Ya think?" he countered.  
  
Jita ambled toward him, and Goten was shocked to see the state she was in. Her clothing was rumpled, far from the fastidiously stylish way she usually dressed, and her eyes were dark and blood-shot. Her amble seemed to be more out of necessity than affected.  
  
Jita noticed how he was scrutinizing her. "It's called final exams. Feels kind of like not being able to push your power any further up, except with a deadline put to it, and a degree riding on it. Not fun in the least. That's why you're coming with me."  
  
Goten backed up in affected caution. "Where do you think you're taking me?"  
  
Faster than he could react, and with total surprise, Jita grabbed his arm and put two fingers on her forehead. The next thing he knew, he was standing outside Capsule Corp. Goten jerked his head about, trying to orient himself. "Warn a person before you do that!"  
  
But Jita was laughing too hard to respond. Goten looked at her in pleasant confusion. "As soon as you're done with your other personality, would you mind telling me why we're in front of Capsule Corp?"  
  
Jita slightly composed herself. "Of course! We're here because we're going to go inside."  
  
"And then what," Goten added, rolling his eyes.  
  
"And THEN, pretty soon Trunks will bring a movie. We're going to watch it, like humans seem to enjoy doing. Do you think you can deal with modern conveniences, backward as they are, after living out in the sticks?"  
  
Goten's eyes brightened. He HAD been missing civilization a bit, lately. Especially with that block in his power. "Sounds fun to me."  
  
The two walked into the residency, being instantly recognized by the security droid. There usually wasn't any security - one ill-tempered Saiyan being enough to scare anyone off - but now the place was deserted.  
  
They made their way into the family room, and Jita plopped down on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion that had been creeping up on her over the past few - well - years. But she refused to close her eyes. That would mean sleep, and she didn't want to sleep. However, that didn't stop her from leaning against Goten when he plopped down beside her. In the dim recesses of her mind, she knew this was un-Saiyanlike behavior. What was she doing - cuddling? Was this acceptable behavior for a royal warrior?  
  
But those thought were suddenly dimmed even further when Goten put his arm around her. It just felt so . . . nice. She hadn't been held in so long. In fact, had she ever been held? Maybe by her mother when she was a baby, and by the servants who cared for her, but she had been too young to remember that.  
  
Vegeta had held her, but that was only when she'd been beaten too much to walk to the rejuvenation tank. Yes, Vegeta had pretty much raised her, but he had raised her as a warrior. He had had to toughen her up in order to survive the physical and emotional atrocities Frieza would inflict on all of them. That meant no hugs, no bedtime stories - nothing. She was grateful for all her brother had done for her - he had enabled her to survive - but none of it should have happened in the first place.  
  
So she reminded herself, as she did twenty times a day, that she was free. If Vegeta could feel love and acceptance from the loud-mouthed blue-haired woman, then Jita could do the same with the emotionally screwed-up demi- Saiyan. And she was tired, and she'd already decided that she would not hold herself accountable for anything she did that night. She'd eaten manicotti, driven a cafeteria lady crazy, played tag, and played a prank in the library. All of this very uncharacteristic of her usually guarded self. No, she had given up her defenses that night. That night, she was free.  
  
"Well, isn't this cozy?"  
  
Jita shot up, half-expecting to see her brother. She knew she would never hear the end of it from him if he caught her cuddling. But it was just Trunks, though he was smirking annoyingly.  
  
Goten jumped up from the couch. "Trunks! It's great to see you."  
  
The two men embraced as old friends. Trunks regarded his now deeply tanned friend and realized how different their lives were now. And their power levels - well . . . they were different too. Trunks felt a twinge of jealousy, but tried to laugh it off. He had made his decision. He could have trained more and been up to Goten's power level. He'd just chosen a different path. Plus, Trunks was determined not to emulate his father in that way.  
  
"Sorry to ruin your Kodak moment. Listen, there are plenty of rooms around here . . ."  
  
"Trunks!" Jita yelled indignantly. Goten playfully glared at Trunks, who was looking very smug.  
  
"All right, that's enough," Goten laughed. "What movie did you get?"  
  
Trunks held up the movie. "Jita said to get something mindless, so I picked . . . 'Reign of Fire'," he ended with a mock dramatic flourish.  
  
Jita started laughing quietly. "You didn't."  
  
Goten looked from one to the other in confusion. "What? Why is that so funny?" But the two just laughed some more, which made Goten slightly frustrated. "Hey, that's not fair. I can't help it if I don't understand recent pop culture references."  
  
Trunks turned on the TV and slid the disc into the DVD player. "Well, let's just say . . . get ready for one of the most MST worthy movies of your entire life."  
  
"Why exactly did you get that movie anyway?" Jita said as the two men sat on either side of her on the couch.  
  
Trunks ignored the special features and just turned on the movie. "It was crazy in the movie rental place. This was literally the only movie worth getting. I guess I shouldn't watch so many movies."  
  
As the opening scene started, the trio watched as a little British boy walked across the square. Goten hid a snicker. "You didn't tell me we were watching Angela's Ashes."  
  
Trunks lands a high-five. "Goten gets first riff," he called.  
  
Jita looked to either side of her in confusion. "What are you doing?"  
  
Goten grinned mischievously. "Making fun of bad movies is one of the best human rituals there is."  
  
Trunks nodded. "It comes from a long line of painfully bored intellectuals and cynics forced to indulge in sub-standard forms of entertainment."  
  
"Oh," was all Jita could say, now even more convinced that humans were insane. What was the fun in ripping apart a bad movie? At least, that's what she thought until she actually got into it. Pretty soon, she became just as bad as the others.  
  
"Oh, come one! How can that boy STILL be alive? In fact, how can anyone still be alive? The dragons should have torched them all by now."  
  
Goten was staring at the movie in growing disgust. "That isn't how a dragon looks anyway."  
  
Trunks laughed in assent. "Yeah, what's up with their arms? Dragons are supposed to be serpentine, and have tiny antlers. And they're supposed to bring people back to life."  
  
"And could the dialogue get any more trite? What, did the dragons take away their personalities as well?" Jita remarked snidely.  
  
Then when the three were still laughing about the 'dangerous close encounter' with the dragon, the movie gave them more to ridicule.  
  
Goten, as the American military man, said, "Hey! I'm American! Don't I look American to you? I should, because you're British, and I'm American. Therefore, I'm here in England to kill dragons with my American accent because I know how to do it better because," he paused for effect, "I'm American!" the other two joined in.  
  
"You know," Trunks began, "considering how much the Earth is depopulated, should they even bother with killing the dragons? I mean, exactly how large of a gene pool is there?"  
  
"There does seem to be a strange lack of females," Goten commented. Then amended, "Oh, wait. There's one."  
  
"Her being the only female in existence," Trunks continued, "should she really be risking her life with the military people?"  
  
Jita snorted in derision. "Oh, don't worry. They won't have her doing anything worthwhile, except being a female." Then she began speaking as the girl in the movie, "Hi! I'm the female character. Are you the main character? That means I have to mate with you. No matter how strong or smart I am, I can only be the female character - the potential mate." Jita stepped out of the character. "Come on! It's like, Earth feminism never happened."  
  
But then, the explanation of the dragon biology and reproduction practices was explained. Jita, Trunks, and Goten were nearly speechless.  
  
"Hey, Jita?"  
  
"What is it, Trunks?"  
  
"Exactly how many alien races would you say you've encountered?"  
  
"Around . . . well . . . somewhere in the nine hundreds."  
  
"And - just in morbid curiosity - have you ever seen a race populated with only one male and the rest female?"  
  
"You know, I've seen plenty of asexual races, both masculine and feminine looking. I've met a few non-saiyanoid species. Plenty of one's with a hive mentality and a queen. But this is the first single-male species I've seen."  
  
Goten laughed. "Maybe that's because this is a retarded system of reproduction. No wonder the dragon species keep going into dormancy."  
  
"I mean," Trunks continued, "they could have made it a single female. That would have made more sense. And a lot of times in nature the female is larger and more violent than the male."  
  
"But that would require human film-makers to actually think. Wouldn't that be a tragedy? And having them fight a female? That would never do."  
  
Fortunately for them, they did not get to see the end of the movie. As the ending credits rolled past and the disc eventually automatically spat out of the machine, the three Saiyans had fallen fast asleep. Their dreams were probably more entertaining than even MSTing the movie.  
  
*****  
  
The sun beamed down weakly, trying desperately to break through the light gray cloud cover. Instead of shining down its radiance on the wet morning, it did little more than accentuate the utterly depressing dreariness of the day. In other words, it was Vegeta's kind of day. No sun to hurt his eyes, and now even the disgustingly cute animals that seemed to flock to Capsule Corp were staying hidden. Upon reflection, it didn't really make sense that so many woodland and domesticated animals would stay at Capsule Corp, which was situated in the center of a large metropolis, but Vegeta was still convinced that it had something do with the late Briefs couple. Bulma's parents had always had a thing for animals, even going so far as to stay with them during the Buu crisis. Vegeta smiled and shook his head at the memory. The two had grown on him, despite all efforts he had made to keep his distance from everyone. He was actually feeling their loss. Besides, they'd probably left some device that attracted those cursed animals, and had died before they could deactivate it. Darn frail humans.  
  
Vegeta furrowed his brow in confusion as he felt three kis in the house that was supposed to be completely deserted. Bulma couldn't possibly be back, and if she was, she would be in the bedroom and not the family room. And she would not have gotten Bra yet, since she'd asked Vegeta to do that. Vegeta didn't do many chores Bulma asked of him, either from disdain or just plain forgetting to, but taking care of Bra was something he never failed to do.  
  
Walking into the family room, Vegeta was greeted by a sight that almost made him burst into laughter right there. On the couch there lay three Saiyans - Trunks had partially fallen off the couch and was sleeping upside down with his head on the floor, and Jita was leaning against Goten, using his chest as a pillow. In a fit of whimsy, Vegeta noticed a camera on the coffee table that needed to be used up. He quickly took the picture. Blackmail was a sweet thing.  
  
At the sudden flash of light, Trunks woke up and immediately fell the rest of the way off the couch. Rubbing his painfully sore neck, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to orient himself. Recognizing the family room, and seeing his father standing over him with an amused expression on his face, Trunks came fully awake and asked, with a shaky voice, "Dad. Do you know what time it is?"  
  
Vegeta snickered. "Three of the strongest warriors in the universe all cuddled up together on one couch. Looks like you slept here all night, brat. It's 8:00."  
  
"8:00!!! KAMI, NO!!"  
  
Trunks jumped up from the floor in a panic, and immediately shook Jita. "Jita, wake up."  
  
"What?" Jita complained, slowly coming awake.  
  
Trunks knew what would get her awake fast. "It's 8:00. In the morning."  
  
"Wha . . . WHAT?!"  
  
Jita quickly pushed herself from Goten, taking a measure of her surroundings. Capsule Corp . . . "Why did you let me go to sleep, Trunks?!" she accused her fellow student.  
  
"Do you think I meant to? I'm late too!"  
  
To add to Jita's problems, Jita spotted her brother, and glimpsed the camera he was trying to hold out of view. But she'd have to deal with that later. She had an 8:00 poetry final, and she knew it would probably take the three hours. Forgetting that Trunks and Vegeta didn't know that she could use Instant Transmission, and not particularly caring right them, she grabbed her purse, thankful that she kept a notebook and pencil in there, put two fingers to her forehead, and vanished.  
  
Vegeta and Trunks merely stared at the space she had recently occupied. Somehow, it didn't really surprise them. Why shouldn't she know Instant Transmission? She knew so many other techniques. Trunks shook out of his stupor and growled, "Would it have killed her to take me along?" Forgetting his father in his panic, he ran out of the house and flew at top speed to campus, planning a speech for his hard-nosed professor. Saiyan pride or not, he was not above begging when it came to his grade.  
  
Vegeta snickered at the panicked young adults and looked at the still- sleeping Goten. "Heightened sense of awareness, my foot," he commented. He roughly jostled Goten's shoulder. "Hey. Wake up, brat."  
  
Goten stirred a bit, but didn't awaken. He was mumbling something about beating his father, which made Vegeta understand the brat's reluctance to awaken. He was dreaming about beating Kakarrot, one of Vegeta's favorite kinds of dreams. However, the brat had to go. Kakarrot was going to show up anytime now to spar with him in the gravity room, and he knew that Goten would not want to be there. Vegeta grabbed the back of the couch, and dumped the dreaming demi-Saiyan in the floor.  
  
"Huh? Wha . . .?" Goten blinked in confusion, expecting to see the inside of his cave, or at least the sky. Instead, he recognized the inside of the Briefs family room, as well as a scowling Vegeta. He quickly got to his feet. "Where'd the others go?" he said groggily, wincing at his own case of morning mouth.  
  
"They had to rush off to take their final examinations. You'd better leave, brat. Kakarrot should be here any time now."  
  
Goten glanced into Vegeta's surprisingly understanding eyes and nodded. He grabbed the DVD, deciding to take it back since he really didn't have anything else to do. He glanced over at the couch, wishing that it was still last night and Jita was still in his arms. That had been an amazing feeling, and he'd give anything to experience it again.  
  
He'd give anything . . .  
  
That's when he decided. He WOULD reconcile with his father. He had to, if for nothing other than to always be able to hold Jita in his arms. He would make the attempt, just . . . not right now. It wasn't the right time. He wanted to be alone when he did it. But next time that Goku sought him out in his wilderness home, he wouldn't run away. Giving Vegeta one more nod, he quickly strode out of the house and took off toward the rental store.  
  
Vegeta shook his head and put the camera back on the coffee table. As Goten's ki faded off in the distance, a barely stronger ki approached the house. The boy had been lucky; he'd left just in time. Vegeta began the walk over to the outside gravity room. He'd interfered enough that day. The boy was getting extremely strong, and the Sons could solve their own problems. After all, hadn't Kakarrot left well enough alone when he and the future version of his son had been having problems? Well, no, but his interference hadn't been that overt. Vegeta appreciated that, and gave the same consideration to his friend and rival. Of course, this didn't stop him from surprise attacking Goku at the entrance to the gravity room . . .  
  
"Hey! That's not fair, Vegeta! We hadn't even started yet!" Goku protested, though he was smiling fiercely as he said it.  
  
"Too bad, Kakarrot! No need to let your reflexes go with your age, grandpa!" Vegeta quipped, quickly avoiding a ki-blast. Spars were always better when he could get Goku mad. As Goku shut the door, Vegeta turned the gravity up to 400, and the two began a fierce spar.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Omega (I'll try to get Fat Buu in somewhere, especially at the climatic and action-packed ending, but I began to write this before I even knew the ending of the Buu saga, so he won't play a major role.), Dark Wolf (I'm so jealous of you. I can't believe how easily you were able to update. Oh, well. Actually, that little spiel comes from "Through the Looking Glass." It is another Alice in Wonderland thing, and the Disney movie draws from both books.), anonymous cat (I'm glad I gave you tingles), aqua-illusion (Thanks for reading the story! And for the compliments. I'm thankful for another person taking an interest in my writing.), and tim333 (Sometimes I am so scared that I'm not getting the characterizations right. Thanks for the reassurance). Hope you all enjoy this chapter! I probably won't update until the beginning of January. I will have my computer, but I won't have internet access. But, who knows. I could surprise myself. Until next time. 


	28. The Next Level

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: FanFiction.net is finally back up again. Great rejoicing among the peasantry. Anyway, get ready for the chapter you've all been waiting for. Big major action here. Hope you enjoy.  
  
  
  
Chapter 27: The Next Level  
  
Jita stared at the paper. Four years for this. Four of the best years of her life summed up on one sheet of overly-ostentatious paper. Her schooling was over, and she had learned one thing for certain: Life was a good thing.  
  
She didn't learn that from school. School had taught her many things about earth life and society. It taught her patience and control. It gave her an appreciation for beauty and art.  
  
Goten taught her about the goodness of life.  
  
She was no longer alone. She had someone to share with. And she had told him everything.  
  
Everything.  
  
Goten had been shocked by some of her recollections, but he showed no pity. For which she was grateful. She didn't need pity. She couldn't really put a finger on what she did need, but whatever it was, Goten provided. He made her - feel. It had been so long since she'd felt anything. The years of torture had numbed her to not only pain, but love. And happiness. She could take a ki-blast that could destroy a planet. She could withstand pain that would have the other Saiyans throwing up and passing out, and she could fight through it. She could take the death of a comrade, even cause it, without a single thought. At least, that's what she told herself. That's how she was trained. That was her life.  
  
Emphasis on the past tense. Goten had changed her so much. She could feel now. Whenever he was around, the dead, numb feeling inside of her was partially dispelled. She almost felt like she had a soul again. Well, of course she had a soul. No one could function as she did without a soul. But she didn't have as much of a grasp on it. Others didn't feel the grasp they had on their soul. It was innate. You didn't even know about it until you'd lost it - until another was grasping her soul. And squeezing it - just as someone would squeeze the throat of a helpless enemy - just to feel the life-force weakening and to see the panic in another's eyes, all in your power. How many times had Jita done that to someone else? Or had it done to her? But, no, there was no comparison to her current situation. She couldn't just pry the fingers away from her throat, or kick her adversary, or use her ki to burn his skin. This wasn't physical. It never had been. It wasn't mental, either. She had her own mind. This was . . . spiritual? It was whatever realm in which the soul lay. And she could never escape entirely.  
  
But she could certainly escape temporarily. That's what this was all about. Carpe Diem. Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die. That may be a sin, but Jita really didn't think it would matter in the end. All that mattered to her was the moment. And in this moment, she could find happiness - with Goten.  
  
Despite her dark thoughts, Jita started laughing. Goten wanted to marry her. She'd read about marriage, and found it a strange human tradition - a ceremony followed by cohabitation, fidelity, and procreation. Sure, at the beginning it had thrown her for a loop. She hadn't expected him to feel so strongly about her, and vice versa. It had scared her at first, but she'd had a year to think about it. Her plan to put off the decision had worked. Well, maybe it wasn't as callous as that. She truly didn't want to be with a man who didn't even visit his family. If, at some point, she wanted children, then she wanted that child to have something she could never have - a complete family. And she'd wanted to rid herself of her obligation to her formal education before she began something new. She may be a strong, versatile, adaptable, and smart warrior, but emotionally she could only do so much. Now that she had graduated from college, she could devote herself to other interests, such as, and it amazed her to even think about it, raising a family.  
  
And then there was the subject of beating her in a fight. It had taken five tries to beat her, and the victory was a close one. It was probably just a Saiyan instinct, something she'd read about in the numerous Saiyan legends that were really just a warrior teaching method. Nothing taught better than verbal tradition. But that didn't matter. She just wanted him to earn her respect, just as the parents of the first Super Saiyan had done. She knew she could beat him - she'd done it four times - but she needed to know he could best her. Though she had almost gotten discouraged and done the unthinkable - thrown the fight. She was reasonably sure he wouldn't have realized it if she did. But then he would have lost all respect without even meaning to, and she - well - CARED too much for him to do that. So she fought to her fullest, continually edging him out with pure battle experience. That was another thing. He was getting stronger. In a contest of pure strength, he could probably beat her. And she felt he was about to break a barrier. She wasn't sure what that meant, but it could mean that her third request of him could be resolved soon.  
  
"Jita?"  
  
Jita looked up from the degree in her hands. The edges had become crumpled and damp from her clenching hands. She'd been staring at it for a long time without realizing it. "What is it, Vegeta?"  
  
"That crazy woman of mine wants you to come down for the - hmph - celebration. Why they have to celebrate every event by socializing . . ."  
  
Jita shook her head in assent. "I have no idea. But they seem to enjoy it."  
  
Vegeta narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What were you doing up here?"  
  
Jita took one last look at her degree, and then set it on the bed, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles. "Nothing, brother. Just trying to avoid the party."  
  
Vegeta smirked, deciding to take the answer at face value. "Not a chance. If I have to go, then you do as well."  
  
As she followed her brother to the party, she took one last look at her degree. Two terms she had placed before Goten filled, and she had finally made up her mind. It was really the only way she could be happy. Goten was the only way she could be happy. She would marry him, and it would happen soon.  
  
"Jita," Vegeta said softly. She smirked at him. He would rather die than say it aloud, but he was worried about her. 'Well, he needn't be.' She simply gave him a look and followed him down the stairs, hearing the almost comforting sounds of people talking outside. Would she ever consider them her friends? She still had a hard time considering Trunks and Chichi her friends, and they were by far the closest. Oh, well. That was something to be considered at a later time.  
  
They came down to a friendly sight. Yamcha and Krillen were working the grill, while listening to Marron rattle on about something. Pan and Bra seemed to be hanging on to every word the high school graduate said in awe, looking at her like she held the patent on 'cool.' Videl and 18 were setting the table, while laughing about something or other. Trunks was looking at his degree, much in the same way Jita had just been doing. And Bulma . . . seemed to be waiting for them.  
  
"Well, glad to see you two finally decided to join us," Bulma yelled. "Seeing as how this party is partly for you, Jita."  
  
Jita crossed her arms, a wry smile twitching at her lips. "I don't seem to recall asking for all this fuss. It seems to be forced on me at every occasion." She sighed. "At least I don't have to participate in that 'birthday' thing you humans make such a big deal about. You don't know the day I was born.  
  
Chichi passed her on her way out of the kitchen, directing Goku and Gohan as they were carrying food out to the tables, as well as keeping her husband from sneaking bites. "Actually, we do know. January 17th, isn't it?" she ended with an innocently wicked grin.  
  
Jita twitched, quickly doing conversions from the Saiyan calendar to that of Earth. It was correct. "How -" she began, until she saw the look on her brother's face. Her face hardened into a glare. "You . . ." she said accusingly. Vegeta smirked as the others began laughing. "Do you really wish to be beaten to a bloody pulp?"  
  
Bra walked up to the stand-off. "Actually, Mom told me to pester him until he told me. So it's really not Daddy's fault."  
  
Vegeta's eyes widened. "So that's why . . . woman, you'll have to stop using the child to get to me."  
  
Bulma laughed the warning tone off. "But it's so easy! Besides, she didn't find out everything I told her to."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "And she never will. Don't think I don't know what you're planning, woman."  
  
"Hey, are you people planning on standing around arguing all day?" yelled 18 from the food table. She really didn't know why she came to these gatherings. They usually ended up in a Saiyan family argument. Of course, seeing the other women was nice, and Krillen liked visiting with Goku, but ever since Goten left, Goku and Chichi hadn't been the same. It just threw the whole group off. And 18 appreciated the reason Jita stayed around, and even liked her a little, but Bulma was trying so hard to integrate her into the family that she couldn't just settle down and let it happen. After all, 18 had taken a while to truly warm up to Krillen's friends. 18 sighed. Everything would be alright eventually, and she would just have to learn patience. But right now, she was hungry, and she wanted her newly- graduated daughter to have fun at this party.  
  
Bulma turned, taking the food she'd been carrying. "18's right. The food's going to get cold."  
  
"Not that you Saiyans could tell," Chichi quipped.  
  
Jita took a plate from Bra, who was about to drop it. "What were you supposed to find out, child?"  
  
Bra looked up at her and shrugged. "Oh, nothing much. Just Daddy's birthday. I don't know what the big deal is, but it seems like he really doesn't want anyone finding out. I guess the same reason you didn't want anyone finding out. I don't really understand. I mean, you get a big party, and presents, except usually adults get smaller parties, and they never get toys. What's the point in having a birthday without toys? And another thing . . ."  
  
But Jita had already stopped listening to Bra, and Bra was being dragged away by Pan. So that's what it was? Well, she'd just have to remedy that little problem. As the group was passing around food and saying their congratulations to the three graduates - Jita, Trunks, and Marron - she did some quick conversions in her head. After a few minutes, she leaned over to speak in Bulma's ear, but saying it loud enough for other's to hear. "June 21st."  
  
As Bulma's eyes widened in delight, Vegeta's eyes widened in horror. Jita chuckled. They were right. Sometimes you could get revenge without bloodshed. The laughter all around was enough for immediate satisfaction.  
  
The food was eaten with no more arguments. Pan and Bra finished first, and quickly ran to an open space in the yard and began sparring. Vegeta watched them proudly. Bra had finally found an interest in fighting, and she was getting quite good for a beginning nine-year-old. She didn't seem to have the drive that the other Saiyans had, but that might come when she achieved greater power. He smiled as Bra landed a sweet punch to Pan's stomach. She was already getting near Gohan's brat, and Pan had been training nearly all her life. Take that, Kakarrot's clan.  
  
Speaking of which . . .  
  
Vegeta looked over at his rival. Krillen and Yamcha were talking to him, but the man didn't seem to be paying attention. Not that Vegeta cared. If either of the humans were talking to him, he wouldn't pay attention either. But that look in his eyes, accompanied by Chichi and Gohan' s occasion worried glances in his direction - hadn't the man gotten over what had been bothering him for - what was it - four years? Goku had never been the kind to let something fester. Vegeta shook his head and turned his attention back toward his son. Oh well. Let the man do what he would.  
  
As Vegeta turned his head, his sister caught his eye. Her face had twisted in concentration, and her eyes had gone wide. Before he could ask what was the matter with the child, he felt it too.  
  
It was Goten.  
  
*****  
  
It was late afternoon in the wilderness, the sun far into the west, just in that place where it gets in your eyes. The air was still and hot, seeming to sizzle in the humidity of mid-May. Nature itself seemed to be tense in anticipation. The dinosaurs were, for once, in hiding, and even the large cat that stalked the area was hiding in the shadows. A lone figure stood in the clearing, facing away from the sun.  
  
Goten was ready.  
  
He closed his eyes, focusing his energy. Wind, the first breezes of that day, started to swirl around him. The cat took one look at this spectacle and, remembering the usual ensuing violence, fled. Goten took no note of this.  
  
"One."  
  
He slid into super naturally, a ritual he'd practiced for as long as he could remember. Blonde and teal and the surge of power and light. It was breath-taking, a kind of power high he couldn't imagine anyone getting from synthetic substances. And he was not finished.  
  
*****  
  
Trunks's head shot up suddenly. There was something different. Someone had just gone super Saiyan. Quickly he got his mind together. It was Goten, all right, but something was different. He still felt to ki rising - rising faster than Trunks himself could do. And it felt tense, like something was about to happen. One look to his father and Jita confirmed his suspicions. Something big was about to happen, and he just hoped Goten was ready for it.  
  
*****  
  
"Two."  
  
The light was now golden as he pushed beyond Super Saiyan. He barely noticed the rocks and debris floating about him. This was truly amazing power. The power that people sold their souls for. The power that defeated Cell. And he had finally achieved it. It had taken him years of training and meditation, but now it was easy - just as natural as level one.  
  
*****  
  
'Yeah, I was right. That's Goten.'  
  
Gohan felt his brother's power increase exponentially. Was this the first time he'd reached this level? Or had Gohan been so caught up in his own life that he just hadn't paid attention to his little brother. He didn't really keep up with anyone's ki signature in this time of peace. But now he could feel him as plain as day. Was this because almost all of the strong warriors were here, and Goten was away from them? Even after four years it still felt strange not to have the boy with them. No, not boy. Man. And that may be what it was. Goten had to prove that. If fact, he was doing it now.  
  
"Goku, what's wrong?"  
  
Chichi's voice broke into Gohan's thoughts, and he looked over at his father. Goku was standing now, his fist clenched, his eyes wide. He was concentrating on the same ki everyone else seemed to be feeling right now.  
  
With a flash, resolve came into Goku's eyes. "Chichi," he answered softly, "I'll be right back." Without another word to anyone else, the Saiyan put his fingers to his forehead and vanished.  
  
*****  
  
Goten steeled himself. He thought of all the times he'd been inadequate. And the one time he'd had the chance to save everyone - he'd let it slip by. How many had suffered because of his cockiness? How worthless he was.  
  
No longer. With a strangled voice, he uttered his goal.  
  
"Three."  
  
The scream echoed, seeming to shatter mountains. Perhaps it did. Nature itself seemed to be screaming along with him - from violence or release or pain or joy . . . Goten wasn't sure. Those feelings had long since been muddled in his mind, walking hand in hand with each other. The scream seemed to go on forever.  
  
The entire world was quaking with energy and violence. He saw his cave collapse from the shaking of the ground. The remnants of so many fires from the past were washed away in huge waves of the usually peaceful lake. Lightning crackled in the sky, yet harmed no one. It seemed to dance around him as he changed. He couldn't see himself, but he could feel it - just like his dim memories as the powerful Gotenks. He felt his hair growing, finally settling around his calves. His hairless brow protruded and his cheeks thinned.  
  
He'd done it. He looked down on his hands, now glowing painfully bright with the brilliant energy of the transformation, the power that had lain deep inside of Goten finally broken through.  
  
"One."  
  
Goten turned in shock. He'd been so preoccupied with the transformations that he hadn't seen or felt the man that now faced him.  
  
"Two."  
  
Goten grinned viciously at the prospect of this final showdown. Wasn't this what he truly wanted?  
  
"Three."  
  
A chance to resolve things with his father.  
  
*****  
  
"What the hell is that?" Bulma screeched as she was barely saved from a falling hot grill by Yamcha. "We don't get earthquakes around here!"  
  
The other warriors seemed to be intent on something other than the strange rumbling of the ground. Slowly Vegeta pulled himself out of the trance. "Seems the boy reached level three."  
  
Chichi's jaw dropped. "The boy . . . you mean Goten?! That's where Goku went?! They're going to fight?!" Chichi's voice went from confusion to disbelief to anger. She was sick of this. Why did every problem have to be solved by fighting? Why did her son have to hate his father? Why did she have to fall in love with a Saiyan in the first place? She hadn't even known at the time. It wasn't fair.  
  
"You needn't worry about them. They won't kill each other. It's not like they hate each other or anything."  
  
Chichi looked at the girl beside her. Jita was trying to comfort her. Well, why not? She was closer to Goten than anyone. "They don't?"  
  
Jita smirked. "Of course not. Saiyans fight their problems out. Once they stop fighting, things should be better. Besides. Goten promised he would reconcile with Kakarrot, so we could -" She stopped before she could give away anything. What was it about these people that took away all her defenses? She hadn't mentioned their engagement to anyone.  
  
"So you could what?" Chichi demanded. It couldn't be what she thought it was.  
  
Vegeta eyed his sister suspiciously, but he knew better to say anything. The others looked at her in varying degrees of distracted confusion. Some knew what was probably going on, but no one would say it aloud.  
  
Bra, however, had no such scruples.  
  
"Goten and Jita sittin' in a tree." Pan joined in with her. "K-I-S-S-I-N- G. First comes love, then comes marriage . . ."  
  
"Silence, children," Jita said, though a little too calmly, causing the others' eyes to widen in shock. Jita desperately searched for a distraction. "Pay attention to the fight. You won't see many level three fights, and it may be over too quickly."  
  
And everyone else took her advice.  
  
*****  
  
The two warriors - the two Saiyans - father and son - faced off. The casual observer would have thought that the two were enemies from the way they glared at each other - both glares seeming to speak a death threat. Of course, the casual observer probably would not have been Saiyan. A Saiyan would know.  
  
The two charged each other with astonishing speed - and were evenly matched. The radical power thrown about nearly decimate the surrounding area. No punches were pulled, no holds were barred - for there was no need. But this was not a fight to the death, as the casual observer would have figured. This was a fight for life.  
  
'I've got to keep pushing.'  
  
The screams filled the air.  
  
'I can't stop now.'  
  
The fight was no longer visible.  
  
'He's so fast.'  
  
A kick to the jaw. A punch to the ribs.  
  
'He's so strong.'  
  
The meeting of kamehameha waves.  
  
'But I may be his match.'  
  
Sparks flew where the ki-blasts met. The sky was no longer blue, but golden. The sky, the ground - the whole earth seemed golden.  
  
Screams.  
  
Power.  
  
And Goten felt free.  
  
Everything was clear now. He was strong, living the life of a solitary warrior, reaching unfathomable power. Pushing himself to his limits, and beyond. Becoming a Saiyan.  
  
Goten understood his father - for once. It was ironic. All this time he had been trying to separate himself from his father's shadow, the shadow that had been placed by his very likeness, even as a child. Especially as a child. He had rejected all his father was, only to now become so like Goku. To achieve the transformation that only Goku had managed. For once, he was not ashamed of Goku. He was - proud - to be his son.  
  
The struggling lines of power between them, which had been there their entire life together, now seemed more of a link. A connection. A . . . bond.  
  
With a start, Goten realized he had powered down to level two. He worried until he saw Goku had done the same.  
  
Down to level one.  
  
And suddenly their hair was black, and the ki between them dissipated. But the link remained.  
  
"Now do you understand?" Goku asked, breathing hard.  
  
For once, Goten did. "Yes."  
  
Goku smiled at his son, relief flooding his face. He'd hoped to reach Goten this day. "I'm proud of you, son."  
  
Goten took one last look at his home for the past four years. Now destroyed by the fight. All remnants of his habitation were gone, and it was almost unlivable. He closed his eyes, and then looked away from the ruins of his life of hate. "I'm ready to come home, Dad."  
  
Goku nodded and walked over to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone's over at Capsule Corp. I'll take us there." He got ready to teleport.  
  
"Oh. and Dad?"  
  
"Yes, son?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Goten and Goku flashed into existence in the middle of a disaster area. The scraps and leftovers from the lunch littered the ground, and the animals that seemed to be perpetual residents at Capsule Corp taking advantage of the unguarded food, while the serving droids were fighting off the small army of quadrupeds to clean the mess properly. At least, Goten was able to get a glimpse of all this before being tackled.  
  
Chichi threw herself at Goten. "Thank goodness you're all right!"  
  
Goten grinned, feeling a mixture of happiness and guilt, as well as an awareness of other people staring. "It's all right, Mom," he said, patting Chichi on the back. "I'm home."  
  
Chichi pulled herself away from her son and, in an abrupt mood swing, whacked him on the head. "Of course you are. You wouldn't think of putting your mother through that again, would you? You wouldn't be that stupid. And you," she turned to Goku, who shrunk back at her tone.  
  
Through this mini family reunion, Krillen, 18, Marron, and Yamcha made a discreet exit, leaving the Sons to sort through their own problems. 18 sighed as she left. Maybe now things would get back to normal.  
  
Videl pulled Gohan off to the side, motioning to Pan as she did so. "Maybe we should leave Goten and your parents alone for now. You can see Goten later."  
  
Gohan nodded. Much as he would like to stay and see his brother, he could do that at some other time. Saying a quick goodbye to Bulma and Trunks, the three took off.  
  
Trunks and Vegeta looked on, both determined to stay. For one, it was their home. For another, Trunks wanted to see his friend, and Vegeta - well - he couldn't show it but he was concerned about how this would affect Goku. Whether it be concern for a - friend - or concern for the people he almost considered his subjects, even if they didn't realize it.  
  
Jita huffed in impatience. The third requirement was fulfilled, and she needed to speak to Goten alone. The presence of others was just annoying her now. Bulma stared at her suspiciously. She had grown rather attuned to Vegeta's emotions, and Jita seemed to share some of his emotional tells. What exactly was this girl planning?  
  
". . . and I don't expect any of these silly arguments ever again!" Chichi finished, huffing for air after yelling nonstop for five minutes on end.  
  
"Yes, Mom," Goten complied, for once glad to hear his mother's ranting after years of rarely seeing her. He was suddenly aware of the others staring at him. He laughed a little, and scratched the back of his head. "Uh . . . Sorry for breaking up another party. Didn't mean for everyone to leave on account of me."  
  
Trunks shook his head in frustration. "Never mind that. You reached level three. This is a very big deal. What did it feel like?"  
  
Goten grinned. "Really powerful. But not very useful in a real fight. You use up too much energy, and you can't really control it well. At least, I wasn't able to," Goten added, looking at his father.  
  
"Don't worry, son. I was only able to control it well in the afterlife. This universe wasn't made for that kind of power in one being."  
  
Chichi's attention wandered, not truly understanding the talk of power and super saiyan levels. She was more interested in the look Jita was giving Goten, and the look he was giving her right back. "Maybe you'll tell us, Goten. When are you planning on marrying Jita?"  
  
All conversation stopped as everyone was shocked into silence. Jita glared at Chichi, and then at Goten. "So, you haven't seen your mother in months. Then how does she know about our engagement?" she said, threat practically dripping from her voice.  
  
Goten's glare almost matched her level of fury. "You're the one who talks to her all the time. You'd've told her before I would. I thought you wanted to keep it a secret!"  
  
Chichi grinned in triumph as Bulma applauded the victory. "Neither of you told her," Bulma laughed. "Until now, that is."  
  
Jita and Goten stopped short, their eyes widening as they realized how they'd been manipulated. Vegeta frowned, but inside he was laughing. He wasn't the only one who would get roped in by these humans.  
  
Jita sighed and rubbed her temples. That headache was getting bigger now. "Yes, fine, we are "getting married", as you humans say. I would like to go ahead and get it done this summer." She looked at Goten pointedly.  
  
"Uh . . . sure," he said in a daze.  
  
"This summer!" screeched Chichi.  
  
"There's so much we have to do!" Bulma joined in at the same octave. The two quickly pulled her away and began firing questions at her, leaving the men in a state between shock and pity.  
  
"You didn't tell me you asked her," accused Trunks.  
  
Goten gulped at the stare-down he was getting. "I - I did, but that was a year ago. Honestly, I thought I would have to remind her. She told me to wait until she had finished college."  
  
Goku laughed. "Girls don't forget proposals. Chichi sure didn't. She tracked me down about seven years after I promised to marry her."  
  
Vegeta frowned at his rival. "That would have made you both twelve. How can you get roped into marriage at twelve?"  
  
Goku gleefully scratched the back of his head. "I thought marriage was a type of food," he admitted unashamedly, causing the three others to sweatdrop anime-style. Once Vegeta recovered, he simply shook his head amusedly. "Kakarrot, you really ARE an idiot."  
  
Goku laughed, knowing he could get back at him. "Hey, Vegeta. You know once Goten and Jita get married, we'll be related."  
  
Vegeta's eyes widened. Somehow, he'd never thought of that. His eyes grew wider as Goku kept musing on how they would be related.  
  
"Let's see, she's your sister and she's marrying my son, so I would be Jita's father-in-law and you would be Goten's brother-in-law. Of course, when they have a kid, it would be my grandchild and your niece or nephew . . ."  
  
Goten laughed nervously. "Dad, aren't we getting ahead of ourselves? I mean, I haven't even bought a ring, or set the date. This is a little early to be discussing children."  
  
"It certainly is," Jita interrupted abruptly. She stared Goten down easily. "We are getting married the 18th of July. You haven't seen your family for four years, so go with them. We will see each other tomorrow." With that, she turned sharply and headed for the gravity room.  
  
Chichi smiled at her son's expression. "I knew I liked that girl," she commented cheerfully. "Goku, Goten, we're going home now. Bulma, it really was a wonderful party. I'll talk to you later."  
  
Bulma grinned widely. "We'll have to start the wedding plans as soon as possible if we're going to get it done in time."  
  
Chichi smiled as Goku put his hand on her shoulder, pulling Goten along with him. The three vanished. Trunks walked into the house, muttering something about needing some sleep, and leaving his parents in the front yard.  
  
"Woman," Vegeta commented, "do you possibly think that these social events aren't such a good idea?"  
  
Usually Bulma would have argued to her heart's content, especially when the subject came to socializing. But now, "maybe you're right," she said wearily. "But maybe when those two get married, they'll settle down. They're the ones that keep breaking up the parties."  
  
Vegeta eyed his wife suspiciously as they walked back into the house together. "You aren't thinking of making this wedding a big affair? Jita won't stand for it."  
  
"Well, I can't just leave it at filling at forms to get a marriage license, like we did. No, I don't regret our decision," Bulma amended quickly at the defensive look that sprang to Vegeta's face. "Jita didn't seem to be so against a ceremony a few minutes ago. But, we'll plan a small one, just for Jita's sake."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "When did you become so in tune with other people's feelings?"  
  
Bulma mirrored Vegeta's expression playfully. "The same time you did," she quipped, quickly running upstairs with a shriek as Vegeta chased her. "You'll pay for that, woman!" Vegeta yelled, and chased her into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.  
  
Trunks raised his head from his prone position on the bed, and rolled his eyes. "Parents."  
  
*****  
  
That night, Chichi stood in the doorway of Goten's darkened room, watching her grown son sleep much as he did when he was a child. A tear formed in her eye. She supposed she should have gotten used to her family being broken apart by now, but it still hurt. She almost couldn't enjoy when they all WERE together, because she was always paranoid about something bad happening. The year after Buu was the best - after Goku had come back to life, before Gohan had married, while Goten still idolized his father - heaven had not been that good. But, of course, it hadn't lasted. Gohan got married. Goku started to pick up his old wandering ways. Goten started to change from the happy-go-lucky boy to the brooding adolescent a few years too early. That was when Chichi knew that things would never be perfect.  
  
She felt an arm settle around her waist. That night Goku had seemed more at ease than he had been in the past four years. And he could actually talk to Goten. Most of their conversation had centered around fighting and power levels, therefore going completely over Chichi's head, but it had been nice. A family again, even if he was only going to live there for a few months.  
  
"Reminds me of when he was seven," Goku said quietly. Chichi leaned her head against his chest, determined to revel in the peace of the moment. Peace was hard to come by.  
  
"Do you think he'll be all right?" Chichi asked in a shaky voice. She felt the arm around her tighten.  
  
"Yeah, he'll be all right. He found something out there. He came to peace with himself."  
  
Chichi smiled sadly and let her husband lead her to their bedroom. Yes, she would revel in the peace.  
  
For as long as it would last.  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: anonymous cat (You patience has finally been rewarded), Omega (Well, if anyone dies, and everyone say it with me, they can always be wished back by the dragonballs. Unless, of course, they are sent to an untold hell dimension.), Dark Wolf (Aww, that's so sweet. I'm glad you're proud of me, especially an author of your caliber. Everyone, I reiterate, read his stuff.), and aqua-illusion. 


	29. Fear

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's notes: THE WEDDING!!! You have no idea how difficult it was to write this chapter. I have been writing on this for weeks. Hope you enjoy!  
  
Chapter 28: Fear  
  
Jita had faced rejection on Planet Vegeta. She had experienced shame and degradation under Frieza's rule. She had gone through mind-bending, soul- killing torture in Hell.  
  
But nothing could have prepared her for this.  
  
Fighting back the urge to scream, Jita finally saw an opening. An escape to sweet freedom. Normally she would face the danger head-on. She was no coward. But this was beyond her power. Her foes' attentions diverted, she slipped away.  
  
Three steps. No more.  
  
A firm hand gripped her shoulder, shattering the hope of an end to the pain. She turned to face her blonde captor.  
  
"If I had to go through it, you do as well," whispered Eighteen.  
  
Jita could have escaped from Eighteen's grasp, no problem. But that would only cause a scene. And Videl guarded the entrance.  
  
And then her true torturers caught her attention. Those she thought of as friends, but had betrayed her.  
  
"Oh, Jita. What do you think of this pattern?"  
  
"This veil would be so beautiful with your hair."  
  
Bulma and Chichi had kept her in the bridal shop for over an hour. And it was taking its toll on the Saiyan princess. The only thing that kept her sane was the prospect of glorious violence later on.  
  
"Where are those men?" Chichi complained. "They were supposed to be here by now. How are they supposed to get fitted for tuxes?"  
  
Videl turned a page in a catalogue. "What are the bridesmaids going to wear?"  
  
Jita brightened up suddenly. Revenge was so sweet. She picked up a book, and thumbed to the page she'd dog-eared. "This one," she said, holding it up for Videl and Eighteen to see. The two tormenters-turned-tormented promptly fainted anime style, to Jita's evil glee.  
  
And her mood soared again as she was getting fitted for her wedding gown. For Goku, Gohan, and Trunks were ushering in an unwilling Vegeta and Goten - neither of which had tuxes. Now Jita was not alone in her torment, as the women practically pounced on the two trapped Saiyans.  
  
Vegeta growled and looked up at his sister. "You will pay for this, child."  
  
Goten merely whimpered in fear of the psycho women taking his measurements. One young saleswoman admired Goten a bit too much, but was immediately scared into the back room by his possessive fiancée. Eighteen was laughing at the men's predicament, at least until Jita pointed to the bridesmaid dress from Hades.  
  
Bulma pushed a tux into Goten's hands for a try on. "Hey, why doesn't Dad have to go through this? And Gohan? And Trunks?" He searched for the other men, who had wisely escaped the women's clutches.  
  
Videl pushed him into a fitting room, since Bulma was busy threatening her husband. "Their tuxes from my wedding still fit. Yours doesn't, and Vegeta never came to any wedding. So quit whining."  
  
By this time Jita was laughing so hard she fell off the little stand, causing pins to jab into her in uncomfortable places.  
  
Chichi was elated. Even a few months ago she'd thought Jita was incapable of such a laugh. Goten and Jita were the best things that could have possibly happened to each other. The wedding chaos was entirely worth it.  
  
Pulling herself up, Jita smirked at the sight of her brother in a tuxedo. She hoped those things were as uncomfortable as the horrid dress she was wearing. She looked down on the dress and frowned. Something wasn't quite right. "Chichi," she grabbed the woman's attention.  
  
"Yes, Jita?" Chichi replied, helping Goten with his collar.  
  
"Why are you not dying the material before making the dress. I'm not the expert on clothing, but wouldn't that make more sense?"  
  
Chichi looked up in confusion. "Dying the . . . What are you talking about, Jita? We're not going to dye the fabric."  
  
Jita paled to the color of her unfinished wedding dress, her eyes widening in shock. "You're . . . you're not expecting me . . ." Her voice raised in incredulity. "What do you think I am?!"  
  
Bulma and Chichi paused to stare at the mortified Saiyan girl. "What do you mean?"  
  
Hearing his sister's shriek, Vegeta finished changing into his regular clothes and walked out of the dressing room, absently handing the tux to Bulma. "What is wrong with you, child?"  
  
Jita turned to Vegeta, holding the skirt of her dress for emphasis. "Look at what they're making me wear! I will not be insulted in this manner!"  
  
Vegeta frowned and folded his arms in confusion. He knew she didn't like dresses, but she'd never reacted like this before. Unless . . . Suddenly his face broke into a smirk and he laughed under his breath.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" Jita demanded angrily.  
  
"Your study of this culture is flawed, child. Do you not know about color symbolism? Wearing white here means quite the opposite from Saiyan culture," Vegeta replied.  
  
Jita stared at him for a second, realizing how much of a scene she had made. Of course she knew white meant purity in earth culture. It had been a big part of literature symbolism. She'd just never realized that the same symbolism went for weddings as well. She frowned at her own faux pas. She rarely had such lapses.  
  
Bulma's face dawned with realization. "I forgot about that. I should have told you before, Jita. I keep forgetting how different a culture you come from."  
  
"Hey, what's going on?" Goten walked out of the fitting room, handing the tux to his mom.  
  
Vegeta rolled his eyes as Jita averted hers. "Jita just thought everyone was calling her a whore. Nothing important. If that is all that is required, I'm leaving." And with that, he did.  
  
Goten walked over to Jita, who still seemed quietly upset. "Are you alright?"  
  
Jita smiled slightly. "I'm fine. You don't have to stick around. I'll see you later."  
  
Goten gave her a worried glance, but took the opportunity to leave anyway. There were some things that he just couldn't fix.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
"This is great!"  
  
Jita finished setting the last of the food on the table, smirking at Goku's comments. After a full day of planning, the women had decided to just eat over at Capsule Corp, especially when they heard Jita wanted to cook. Gathered around the table was Goku, Chichi, Goten, Vegeta, Bulma, and Trunks. Bulma had briefly questioned Jita's ability to cook for such a crowd, but her comments were silenced by Jita's glare. But Chichi had no doubts to Jita's ability. Not only had Jita learned everything Chichi knew about cooking, she had revolutionized the art of cooking well in large quantities in a small amount of time. Something to do with controlling ki and using different spices.  
  
Bulma looked at the heavily laden table as the Saiyans tore into the meal. She shook her head at Jita. "Showoff."  
  
Chichi quickly grabbed an egg roll before her husband could get to it. "Now, let's not be bitter, Bulma. Just because you have to hire cooks doesn't mean everyone has to."  
  
Bulma crossed her arms. "I could cook. I just don't have the time."  
  
The argument could have gone on forever, but Vegeta was stewing over something a bit more important. "What's this foolishness about a human wedding?" he demanded.  
  
Goten buried his face in his hands. "Oh, no. Do we have to bring that up again?"  
  
Jita looked sharply at her fiancé. "That's what I've been talking about all day. Since we're more Saiyan than human then we ought to have a traditional Saiyan wedding. From what I heard of human weddings, it will be much shorter that way."  
  
"We've already planned the wedding out," challenged Chichi. "You forget my son is half human as well. If a human wedding was good enough for me, and it was good enough for Gohan, then it will sure as hell be good enough for my Goten!"  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes at her overly dramatic friend. "Personally, I was willing to entertain that suggestion, but Jita didn't remember a thing about Saiyan wedding customs, and has lost any books that pertain to the subject."  
  
Jita sighed. "Well, what do you expect? I was six when Planet Vegeta blew up. I'm surprised I still remember the language."  
  
"Anything you know about Saiyan culture is because of me." Vegeta frowned. He knew this may blow up in his face, but his sister deserved a Saiyan wedding. "I know all the rituals."  
  
"Well, hey, that's great Vegeta," Goku exclaimed, his mouth full of food. "Now the argument can be settled."  
  
Chichi turned to her husband. "What are you saying, Goku?! How could you even think of having a wedding like that?! For all we know the rituals could be hitting each other with painsticks! Is that the kind of wedding you want for your son?!"  
  
"That's not what I'm saying, Chichi," Goku said, holding his hands in front of him in defense. "I'm just saying that maybe we can come up with a compromise."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "Besides. Painsticks are optional, and usually reserved for the bride's mother-in-law," he added under his breath. Thankfully, only the Saiyans had good enough hearing to make it out, and quickly hid their amusement from Chichi.  
  
"Well, that's good to hear," Chichi said, making it harder for the others to mask their amusement.  
  
Trunks cleared his throat before Chichi could figure out something was going on. "I don't see why you can't just take different aspects of human and Saiyan culture to put into the wedding. That would be the most accurate representation."  
  
Bulma beamed. "That's my boy. That's why he's going to be the head of Capsule Corp."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "I thought you wanted him to take over for you because you have no business sense."  
  
Bulma simply glared and stuck her tongue out, knowing it was true. "The reason I can't handle the stress of the job is because I too stressed out from putting up with you."  
  
"Well," Jita interrupted, "since we've already picked out all the clothing, we'll wear that. I'm not going through another clothing nightmare. And since the clothing is such a big part of the human ceremony, that can constitute most of the human half of the wedding. Now." She pulled out a notebook and pen that she just happened to be carrying around with her. (Hey, some people do that.) "What are the Saiyan traditions?"  
  
The others drew their attention away from the rapidly depleting food. This was one of those rare times that Vegeta would say anything about Planet Vegeta.  
  
"The ceremony begins with a pronouncement of each warriors' worth - usually name, power levels, accomplishments, or whatever else. Then the officiator of the wedding, usually a person of noble birth, proclaims the union of the two. The two then make a link of ki with their left hands, symbolizing and formalizing their union. Then there's the optional beating with painsticks," he added with a smirk.  
  
"That's all?" Chichi squawked.  
  
"That's doesn't sound so bad," Goten replied. "In fact, I think I'd prefer it." Goten blushed. He had a problem with kissing in public.  
  
Chichi was horrified. "But that's just too short a ceremony. Are you sure there's nothing else."  
  
"Well," Vegeta said, "there's usually a banquet afterwards."  
  
Chichi brightened up. "That sounds much better."  
  
"Of course," Vegeta continued, "the main dish is usually a captured enemy of the family, or an invading alien."  
  
Goku burst out laughing. "You're kidding, right?" He stared into Vegeta's dead serious eyes. "You're not kidding."  
  
"OK, so no banquet," Bulma said stiffly. "But we can do everything else. Except there's one thing that's missing. You need to say vows. And Vegeta needs to officiate the wedding."  
  
Vegeta nearly choked on a bite of chicken. "What?!"  
  
Trunks started laughing. "Well, you did say the officiator is someone of noble birth. Who else in here is of Saiyan nobility?"  
  
Goten smiled mischievously, despite Vegeta's stuttered protests. "That's alright by me. Jita?"  
  
Jita nodded. "That is acceptable. So that's settled." She was tired of the subject, and just wanted to think of something else. Anything else. She surveyed the now demolished meal and the piled-up dishes. She also saw the men making motions to leave the table. "Not so fast," she ordered. "Bulma and Chichi helped me cook, and none of you helped me in the slightest, so the four of you will wash the dishes. And don't think I can't force any one of you," she replied the rebellious looks she was receiving.  
  
Leaving the table and the disgruntled workers, she ran up the stairs to her room. She was desperately seeking solitude. The princess threw herself on her bed, holding her hands over her face, trying to shut out the world. She had spent her life avoiding social situations, and lately it seemed that was how she spent all of her time. There were the wedding plans, not to mention beyond the wedding.  
  
Beyond the wedding . . . Jita had also spent her life making definite plans for the future. Well, she took that back. She had spent her life making definite goals. Up until she was six, her goal was to earn the titles of princess and warrior. After she had achieved those goals, she hadn't known what to do with herself. She wasn't sure what would have happened if Planet Vegeta hadn't blown up. But it had, and had led to her enlistment in Frieza's Elite and the goal to become Super Saiyan and kill Frieza. She hadn't planned any beyond that, possibly because she hadn't expected to achieve those goals. Well, death had changed everything, and suddenly her goals had become to come back to life and kill Frieza and Vegeta. If she HAD been planning in advance, she would have seen that selling her soul was an extremely stupid idea.  
  
So, recently, her goal was to get married to Goten. And there was the same problem. She had no idea what life would be like after that.  
  
Jita looked around the room at all the familiar objects - some were the Saiyan relics she and Vegeta had salvaged from various parts of the universe, and others were little knickknacks she had accumulated on Earth in the four - almost five - short years she had resided on the planet. Had it been that long? Yes, it had. Jita herself had changed so much. Suddenly, feelings were not weaknesses, but strengths. Love was accepted, and peace was jealously preserved and defended. So unlike the world in which she had been raised, and yet this world was more home to her than any other place she'd ever been. It didn't matter if she had spent the least amount of time referring to this place as home. It was the people who made it home. The problem was - would it all last.  
  
Nothing lasted. Everything was transient - whether it be life or death or all the little things that are included in either. Even the things people fought to preserve. Kakarrot and the others had fought so many times to preserve their little home planet on the outer rim of the civilized galaxy, even once using the dragonballs to restore it from complete destruction. But how could they prevent Sol from going nova? Or the weak, oblivious humans using their nuclear weapons against one another? How could they protect the planet after they are dead, and no one is left strong enough to defend the little blue planet they've fought so hard to protect? It was the same with the relics she had jealously protected. Even if she left the relics to others to care for, eventually their meaning would become obsolete, and no one would care enough to care for them. The boxes and armor would go into obscurity, the ancestral bones would return to dust, and nothing would remain.  
  
Was it worth it? Sure, life with Goten would be wonderful. She could live out a normal life, have a family, fill in all the needs that had been unsatisfied all her life - but it was so fragile. She felt like she was planning an unrealistic dream - idealizing Goten into a "knight in glittering armor" who would save her from everything, even save her from herself. This was ridiculous and weak-minded, of course. Goten was certainly not perfect. He had problems of his own. Could he be a good husband and father? He'd said enough about how Goku had paid little attention to his family. Would Goten unwittingly follow in his father's footsteps? He'd already skipped out on his family once - leaving them for four years. Would he just skip out on her some day? To train alone? Or worse, infidelity?  
  
Then there was herself. Could she even handle the responsibility of a family? She didn't even know where to begin with being a wife and mother. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to go through the process of creating a child. What if it was too much like those times she remembered . . . Even if it wasn't like that, could she separate it in her mind? Would she look at Goten the same?  
  
And even if that wasn't a problem, and she managed to conceive, Vegeta had told her that Saiyan women have an extremely difficult time giving birth. What if she died giving birth? It wasn't uncommon in Saiyan society, and actually more probably the higher in rank the woman was. If that was the case, she was in the worst situation imaginable.  
  
And if she died, then where would she be? She'd never even get to see the child - or Goten - even in the afterlife.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Jita pulled her hands from her face, plopping them in place at her sides, and looked wearily over to the doorway. Goten stood there, fairly filling the threshold, shifting from one foot to the other, as if nervous to enter her inner sanctum. Jita realized that the noise had died down downstairs, and Goku and Chichi must have left, which mean Vegeta was training in the gravity room, Bulma was working in her lab, and Trunks had gone out somewhere. Jita gave a half-lidded smile and invited him in with a jerk of her head.  
  
Goten strode across the room and sat at the edge of the bed. Jita closed her eyes again, and felt Goten's hands as they began to stroke her hair. Her worries and inner turmoil melted away as she was mesmerized by the intriguing sensation of Goten's hand in her hair. As she tried to regain her train of thought, what she remembered sounded utterly ridiculous. Goten - leave her? Why, she wouldn't let him. And if Vegeta could be a father, then she could be a mother.  
  
"Hey, Jita."  
  
"Hmm?" she responded distractedly.  
  
"What were you worrying about?"  
  
Jita opened her eyes and gazed straight into Goten's eyes. The question had almost been rhetorical. "Nothing important."  
  
Goten smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "Good."  
  
  
  
*****  
  
The sun began setting as the group gathered beside the lake - the same lake of that fateful battle only a few years before. The once battle-scarred ground had all traces of the battle wiped away, as if forgiven. Beautiful flowers covered the ground. Most could be recognized by a practiced eye, but there were a few that were completely alien to Earth. Much like the group of humans and aliens that graced this beautiful scene.  
  
The world seemed to be in a golden half-light, the sky splashed with pink and orange and red. Once Goten had thought of only death and violence while watching a sunset. Now, he could see the beauty.  
  
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and shook out of his reverie. He turned to see Trunks smiling encouragingly at him. "It's time?" he asked his best friend.  
  
"Yeah. It's time."  
  
Goten let Trunks lead him toward the others, tugging nervously at his collar. As he came into view of the wedding party, the first thing he saw was Jita. The sight of her nearly took his breath away. She was dressed in a white gown that made her the quiescence of simplicity and elegance. She wore no veil, and her black eyes were luminous against the pale skin and white dress. She looked to be made of fine porcelain and white silk. But the most beautiful thing about her was the tiny smile she was giving him. He knew Jita was happy.  
  
A gong sounded, made from the shield of the first king of the Saiyans, the traditional gong for royal weddings. A nine-year-old Bra tried to suppress a goofy grin. She thought that ringing the gong was extremely cool, and she wanted to look cool.  
  
Jita and Goten joined hands and began to walk forward. Before them was an unlit bonfire. Vegeta was standing behind it, dressed in full armor. Saiyan tradition had overridden Bulma's insistence on a tuxedo. That, and Vegeta's stubbornness. The rest of the spectators had gathered in a loose circle around the bonfire. Bulma stood closest to Vegeta on the right, where Trunks quickly joined her, along with Bra, who forgot to leave the stick next to the gong. On the same side Krillen's family and Yamcha were gathered. To the left of Vegeta stood all the Sons - Goku, Chichi, Gohan, Videl, and Pan. Hercule stood close to Videl, a bit nervous about this alien ceremony. Apart from the others, Piccolo watched with arms folded.  
  
Vegeta looked over to Pan and nodded. At the signal, she drew her panflute and began to play a melody, strange and sweet. It was a melody that Vegeta's mother had taught to him, and he had passed it on to Jita, who had taught it to Pan and Bra. Pan had been practicing it for a long time for this very occasion. The twilight, the smell of the flowers, the haunting melody - they all lent a dream-like quality to the air, and Vegeta felt the barriers of time and space between his two homes thinning. He was almost startled when the music stopped, signaling that it was time to begin.  
  
"Hey, what's gonna happen now?" whispered Hercule, though a bit too loudly.  
  
"Shh," Videl whispered back, fortified.  
  
"Oh, sorry."  
  
Vegeta frowned at the humans, but let it slide. "The union of two warriors is a sacred bond. Warriors must be strong for the good of all. What is your worth?"  
  
Goten put a fist over his heart and bowed - the sign of his station in the Saiyan hierarchy. "Trunks Brief, son of Prince Vegeta, will speak for me."  
  
Trunks walked over next to Goten. "He is Son Goten, son of Son Goku, or Kakarrot. He is a Saiyan warrior, third class. He was trained by Son Chichi, Son Gohan, Son Goku, and Piccolo. He was the youngest Super Saiyan. In a close match, he came in second in the 25th Tenkaichi Budoukai, junior division. He fought valiantly against Majin Buu. He has reached Super Saiyan level three. He is strong and worthy."  
  
Vegeta nodded to his son solemnly. Attention focused on Jita, as it was her turn. Instead of bowing, she barely inclined her head and said, "Kakarrot, son of Bardock, will speak for me."  
  
Goku stepped forward, unusually solemn in honor of the occasion. He panicked for a minute when he couldn't remember the words, but then calmed down. "She is Princess Jita, daughter of Kind Vegeta. She is a Saiyan warrior princess. She -" He suddenly snorted in laughter, unable to contain himself. The others stared wide-eyed at him. One by one they got the joke, and fought against laughter.  
  
"Kakarrot!"  
  
"Sorry, Vegeta," Goku said, looking chidden. "She is a Saiyan warrior - ahem - princess." He was about to laugh again, when he saw glared from both Chichi and Jita. "She was trained by Prince Vegeta and Frieza."  
  
Everyone watched Jita closely as her eyes twitched. Surprisingly, she was insisted on this inclusion, maybe because she would not even name the person that had trained her after death.  
  
"She defeated many great warriors, many of whom had never been beaten before." Jita's eye twitched again. That was actually no mean feat. The people she had killed were far too many to mention, and most of the time never being beaten merely meant being alive. Never dying, that was a real accomplishment.  
  
"She gave her life in rebellion against Frieza."  
  
Jita head jerked up at that sentence. That had been added. She looked over to Vegeta, figuring it was he who had told Goku to say that. It was a surprise. He had never truly approved of her method of rebellion against Frieza. Mostly because it had gotten her killed. He smirked, telling Jita all she needed to know.  
  
"She has reached Super Saiyan level two. She is strong and worthy."  
  
Vegeta nodded to Goku. "Son Goten, Princess Jita, you are worthy. You will swear at each other now."  
  
Goten and Jita exchanged shocked expressions as the rest of the company lost control of their laughter. Chichi tried to bring her family in line with much glaring and ear-pinching.  
  
"I meant," Vegeta responded with barely disguised irritation, "that they should swear to each other."  
  
At lengths the laughter subsided, though most were smiling or smirking, as the case may be. Jita was still laughing under her breath, until she looked into Goten's eyes, and realized why they were there. She drew in a breath, steadying her nerves. This was it. "I, Princess Jita, swear to you, Son Goten, my love, respect, and fidelity, for all the time that I am existing."  
  
No one, not even Vegeta, had the presence of mind or the nerve to remind Jita that she was supposed to go second in her vows. Goten smiled, and pulled out the wedding rings from his pocket. Jita blushed at her nervous forgetfulness, but said nothing. Quickly she took a ring form Goten's hand and tried to put it on Goten's finger. When it wouldn't go on, she nervously exchanged the ring for the right one, her action causing a bit of murmuring and repressed snickers.  
  
But again Jita's frustrations were forgotten as Goten caught her hand in his and stared in her eyes. "I, Son Goten, swear to you, Princess Jita, my love, respect, and fidelity, for all the time I am existing." With that he smoothly put the ring on her finger.  
  
"Goten," Chichi whispered, capturing everyone's puzzled expressions. "Wrong hand."  
  
Goten stared at her as if she'd gone crazy and mouthed the word "What."  
  
"Wrong hand," she whispered more insistently. When he still didn't understand. Chichi walked over to the couple, pulled the ring off Jita's right hand, and thrust both the ring and Jita's left hand to Goten. Then she walked back to her place and smiled, as the others murmured their amusement. Goten, blushing furiously both at his own mistake and at his mother's controlling nature and lack of subtlety, put the ring on the right - er - left hand. Fortunately for Goten it was getting to dark to see. The sun had fully set and it was a moonless night. But the ceremony was almost over.  
  
Vegeta cleared his throat. "This part of the ceremony is usually spoken in formal Saiyan, but since there are but two who understand the language, I have translated it. Princess Jita, Son Goten, you have accepted the most sacred of responsibilities with honor. May your union be strong, your line prosperous, and may you ever triumph over you enemies. The bond is done."  
  
Goten and Jita smiled and faced each other. With their right palms a bit apart from each other, a burst of blue ki came from each and joined in the middle. Goten smiled at the memory of reconciling with his father. Strange coincidence.  
  
After a few seconds, the ki ignited the bonfire, which shot up in a blaze from the intensity of the ki, illuminating the night in a burst of blue and orange and flame and spark.  
  
Cheers and applause came from all around, and the bride and groom were suddenly surrounded by family and friends. Videl and Eighteen slipped away to get the food capsules, and before long there were two long tables covered in mostly Chichi's cooking, all of it still hot and fresh.  
  
As the group began to attack the food tables, they couldn't help but notice the strange wedding cake that Chichi had cooked. They had not wanted an extravagant wedding cake, saying that a small one would be fine. But this . . . The cake was decorated with alien heads, the kind with teardrop heads, large eyes, small mouths, and green skin. "What's up with the cake, Mom?" Goten asked.  
  
Chichi's face flushed a little, but she was ready to defend her reasoning. "Well, Vegeta said something about eating aliens at wedding banquets, so . . ." She trailed off as everyone started laughing again.  
  
"And I wasn't even being serious," Vegeta said under his breath.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
Bulma looked down at her daughter tapping her arm. "What is it, Bra?"  
  
"Isn't it supposed to be gift time?"  
  
Bulma smiled. "Actually, yes."  
  
Bra and Pan herded Goten and Jita over to where the gifts were as the group hastily finished their repasts. Most people had capsulized their gifts, being the most practical method of gift-wrapping. Yamcha, being one of the few that wasn't family, went first. "Well," he began nervously, "I wasn't sure of what to get you, so here." He handed the two a gift bag. Inside was season tickets to the Titans games, and autographed ball with the rest of the teams signatures on it, a toaster, and dish towels.  
  
"Wow. This is great, Yamcha," Goten said. "I've been bugging you since I was a kid for this."  
  
"I didn't know you wanted dish towels as a kid?" Gohan piped in, earning good natured laughs all around.  
  
When the laughter died down, Piccolo walked forward. Wordlessly, he stretched his arm out and formed a shaft of ki in his upward palm. After a moment's concentration, the ki began to form expertly into the shapes of Goten and Jita, as they were then. After Piccolo was sure he had gotten the shape right, he willed the ki into a solid form, and held it out to the couple. "Unbreakable crystal."  
  
Jita took it and held it to the light of the bonfire. The ki sculpture had been pure artistry. No one had known that the Namek was capable of such a feat. Jita inclined her head to Piccolo in appreciation.  
  
Next Krillen, Eighteen, and Marron stepped forward. Krillen scratched his head. "Umm, well, I guess you noticed this place was kind of cleaned up from how it was."  
  
"Yeah, I was gonna ask about that," Goten interrupted.  
  
Eighteen smiled. "We gathered the dragonballs and asked Shenlong to repair the land for the wedding. We also asked for it to be decorated by flowers. If you'll notice, some of the flowers are varieties that have been extinct since the Planet Vegeta was destroyed."  
  
Jita looked around at the flowers. Actually, she'd barely noticed them in her preoccupation with the wedding. Sure enough, she actually recognized some of the flowers from her childhood.  
  
"These flowers won't die," Marron added. "They'll be here forever, so you can see them other times."  
  
Gohan, Videl, and Pan stepped forward next. "Well, I figured you wouldn't be able to get to the library every day," Gohan smiled knowingly, "so here's a library for you, and a list of the books."  
  
Jita's eyes practically bugged out as Gohan handed her a box with ten capsules and a sheaf of papers that could have passed for a book itself. Her eyes scanned the list greedily. This had to be the best so far.  
  
Hercule cleared his throat and stepped forward. He was used to Goten, but was uneasy about the strange sister of Vegeta, a man he already feared. "I - um - got you a car."  
  
To any other couple this would have been a tremendous gift. Goten and Jita did appreciate it, and expressed their appreciation, but the gift was rather absurd. Sure, it was the latest model, and extremely nice, but they would rarely use it.  
  
Goku, impatient to present his gift, walked ahead and handed a thin package to Goten, who took it with some confusion. He had expected a capsule. Opening it, he found a picture of a house. "What in the world?"  
  
Goku grin got even wider. "I built you a house."  
  
The enormity of the gift summed up in that simple sentence was almost too much to conceive. In the shocked silence, Chichi spoke up, "And I furnished it. Of course, you can change whatever you want, but since neither of you care much for those things, I took the initiative."  
  
Jita looked up from the picture in relief. "Where is it?"  
  
"It's in the outskirt of Satan City. I knew you didn't want to live in the woods, but I thought you might want to live away from the other people. I'm including the property around it. It used to be a part of Oxking's holdings. I guess it's part of your inheritance come early."  
  
"Extremely early," Chichi piped in. "You won't be dying for a VERY long time."  
  
"Of course not, Chichi," Goku said hastily. "I'll show you where the house is whenever you want," he said to Goten and Jita.  
  
Trunks quickly stepped forward. "Well, I was supposed to go next, but I guess this is better. Now my gift makes more sense." He handed Jita a capsule. "This is something you need just as much as a library."  
  
Jita gave him a wry grin. "This is a gravity room, isn't it?"  
  
"Hey, I've always wanted one of those!" Goten said excitedly. "Ever since me and Trunks snuck in when I was six -" He broke off as Trunks clamped a hand over his mouth with a panicked expression. They could both feel Vegeta's glare beating down on them. "He doesn't know what he's talking about," Trunks assured everyone.  
  
"He'd better not," Vegeta warned, arcing an eyebrow.  
  
Trunks sighed. "Way to go, Goten."  
  
Goten pulled away from Trunks's hand. "How was I supposed to know you hadn't told him?"  
  
Jita smirked at the childish antics from the two grown men. "Thank you for the gift, Trunks."  
  
Trunks slunk back to join the others, avoiding his father's gaze. Bulma stepped up, ready to break the mood. "Well, I guess that just leaves me," she said brightly, handing Goten a capsule with the label 'honeymoon' on it. Goten looked up in confusion, and threw it into a safe area to decapsulize. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he definitely didn't expect what came out.  
  
"A spaceship," he whispered.  
  
"Not just any spaceship," Jita amended. "That's the one I came in."  
  
Bulma smiled proudly. "Fully refitted and improved. It's faster, more comfortable, and has a better weapon and defense system to it, just in case. I figured you two might want to truly be alone for you honeymoon."  
  
Jita was about to board the ship to check it out, but a hand restrained her. "Not so fast," Vegeta said. "If you get on that ship, you may not leave it, and that isn't the last gift."  
  
Everyone looked on in surprise. Most had known about each others' gifts, but no one had known Vegeta would be giving anything. He usually wasn't the gift-giving type.  
  
Vegeta retrieved two boxes, and gave one to each newlywed. Jita opened hers first, and gasped. Inside was an old and used book, with papers sticking out of it in all directions. No title graced the cover, but Jita recognized it instantly. "My diary," she said reverently. She looked at Vegeta with wide eyes. "I thought it was destroyed."  
  
"Do you not remember that you made a second copy?" Vegeta said softly.  
  
"And you kept up with it all these years?"  
  
"Jita, what is it?" Chichi asked.  
  
Jita almost smiled. "This is the thing that got me killed. I was researching Frieza's method of pretty much manipulating the universe. I was going to use the evidence to start a revolution among the warriors. I never got to. It was discovered."  
  
Anyone else would have considered this gift to be somewhat macabre, but Jita was not normal. It was the best gift she had ever received.  
  
Goten had been absently opening his own gift while looking at hers, but his attention was drawn back to the box before him when his hand closed on something that felt like bone. He pulled out an elegant dagger with an intricately designed bone handle. The handle featured characters from another language. He looked up in confusion and saw that Jita was looking at Vegeta strangely. "What does this mean, Vegeta?" he asked, convinced that everything in Saiyan culture had some sort of meaning.  
  
Vegeta folded his arms. "According to Saiyan culture, you would not have been allowed to marry the princess - you being from a third-class family and a half-breed at that. I know all that truly doesn't matter anymore, but this is something only I can give. The gift of an ancestor dagger from the leading member of the royal family elevates you in rank, to that of first-class elite. You are part of the Saiyan nobility now, boy."  
  
Most were able to comprehend the enormity of this gift. Vegeta was a stickler for hierarchy, something that had made him hate Goku from the very beginning, and frustrated him every time his attempts to pull rank went unnoticed. Vegeta had also been a stickler with the difference between a demi-Saiyan and a full-blooded Saiyan. For a while, even the birth of Trunks had not changed this view. To award Goten with rank and title was a huge step for him. Goten smiled and bowed his head slightly, clutching the dagger. "I am honored."  
  
The party began to break up. Pan and Bra's frequent yawns had not gone unnoticed by their mothers, so everyone started to clean up. When the first to leave looked around for Goten and Jita, the couple was nowhere in sight.  
  
"What's that sound?" Pan said sleepily.  
  
No one had noticed Jita dragging Goten into the spaceship, or the door being shut. What they did notice was a huge ship lifting from the ground, blowing everything all over the place. Most smiled indulgently, and the rest smirked. Goten and Jita were finally alone.  
  
*****  
  
And finally Goten and Jita were alone. Truly alone. Bulma had given them a wonderful honeymoon trip as a wedding present. They would not have been alone any place on Earth, and Goten had always dreamed of space travel, wishing he had been around for some of the other adventures in space his family and friends had told him about. And now he had finally left Earth, and was now even leaving the solar system.  
  
Goten glanced nervously as Jita worked the controls, muttering to herself - more to remember the intricacies of space navigation. Jita had seemed - detached. She was as amiable as she would allow herself to be during the wedding. The reception, or banquet, had ended rather abruptly after the gift-giving. There had been no music or dancing as was common in human weddings. One mention of the prospect of dancing had brought an instant veto from both bride and groom. Chichi explaining that not all dancing was like the fusion dance had not changed his mind.  
  
Goten snapped his brain back into focus. Jita - detached - why? Maybe it was because she was uncomfortable with the ceremony - intended to make her a spectacle. She didn't like to draw attention to herself socially. Maybe it was because of the gifts. She wasn't used to receiving gifts.  
  
Then again, maybe it was the same thing he was feeling. Uncertainty. Apprehension. Alright - ok - fear. He was married. He would spend the rest of his life with this one woman, no matter what.  
  
Why was he wracking his brain like this? If he and Jita told each other everything before, why not now?  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Jita continued to concentrate on the navigation.  
  
"What's wrong, Jita?" he repeated with some insistency.  
  
Jita tossed him a look. "We're at Alpha Centauri. I just put the ship into orbit until we decide what to do."  
  
Goten smiled and dismissed his worries. She was just being herself, and nothing was wrong. He was just nervous, that was all. He reached out to touch her hand.  
  
She flinched away.  
  
It had been a quick, almost imperceptible movement. You could almost miss the flash of panic on her face. Almost.  
  
Understanding dawned on Goten. She wasn't afraid of the future. She was afraid of right now. He repressed a slight feeling of hurt and remembered that she really didn't know any better. Every aspect of the past she had spoken of was drenched in violence and pain.  
  
Gently he took Jita's hand, which she now seemed to be consciously willing not to pull away. "I won't hurt you. And I won't do anything until you're ready."  
  
And the look of gratitude and relief in her eyes was worth more than anything he could have had all night. Instead they talked long into the night, and fell asleep in each other's arms.  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (You think I would leave it at that? I have so much to do. I haven't gotten Jita's character anywhere near to resolved. I got one plot point half-way resolved, and that's it. Oh, well. Thanks for the compliments. I was so happy to have my battle scene praised by the master of battle scenes.), Omega (Thanks a bunch. That makes me feel really special.), aqua-illusion (heh-heh. You know me better than you think.), Ssjgoddesschico, and tim333 (hope you got my e-mail and consider my advice. Hope to see you writing again real soon.)  
  
I decided to make an e-mail update thingy. If you're reading this, and don't sign in, or have an author page on FF.Net, then please email me if you want to receive this. I'm just going to do a bulk thing for all of my stories, so this may be incentive to read some of my other work (hint hint). Anyway. So long. 


	30. Torturous

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I know I haven't updated in two weeks, but that's because I have this annoying life that won't let me write my all-important stories. I'm not being sarcastic. I'm really frustrated. Anyway. This is a change of pace from the happy things I've been writing recently. I hope you enjoy it anyway.  
  
  
  
Chapter 29: Torturous  
  
It was almost finished.  
  
Jita had barely gotten any rest over the past two weeks. At the moment she was riding on little food and practically no sleep. That was alright. She did it to herself. She was used to going without. She merely took it in stride and concentrated on the building in front of her.  
  
It was a rather impressive structure, built near the house Goku had built for her and Goten. While the house was rustic, a wooden structure that suited Goten's tastes better, the new building was a series of white domes - one large one with smaller ones attached by tube-like corridors. The main dome sported a symbol Goten and Jita had chosen for themselves. For every sensei needed a symbol.  
  
Jita had gotten the idea not that long ago. As living expenses grew, she realized the money she had saved would not be enough to support a Saiyan family. The grocery bills were large, to say the least. Even if they hunted for their food, there were still other things in a diet besides meat. So they needed money. The career choices she looked into had not pleased her. Most were jobs dealing in different services and - well - she wasn't that great with dealing with people. Her failed attempt at being a waitress had told her enough. And she needed something for Goten to do. Something that was not demeaning to either of the Saiyan nobility. Something they were good at. The puzzle had baffled her. It wasn't like she'd ever had to worry about money. No need for money in the palace on Planet Vegeta, or in hell. And Frieza kept his soldiers dependent on him for everything. So she was once again trying to cope in an absolutely unfamiliar situation. She nearly gave up.  
  
Life had been so much simpler in space, in that honeymoon that had lasted for far too short a time. She had shown Goten around the universe she had grown up in, going to places she remembered. Some were utterly destroyed. The Kold Empire HAD been in operation for many years after her death; it only made sense that the galaxy she had known so well had changed so much. But some places had remained untouched. There had been one planet that had been barely populated. She and Goten had spent most of their time there. It was there the voice had finally quieted to a whisper, and she could focus on the man to whom she had vowed her life, and the happiness he brought her.  
  
But reality had broken into their dreams - supplies ran low, fuel was exhausted, she was constantly reminded that she had created some of the large expanse of space debris they had to pilot around . . . The two barely made it home under their own power, and were rewarded with a rough landing and a lecture on responsibility by Bulma.  
  
After that, there was the chore of moving into the house, getting everything right. She had decided to divide the Saiyan relics, telling the other Saiyans to take what they wanted. The collection was rather large, and she was tired of the continual upkeep of every relic. That led into her giving a lengthy lecture on the significance of each item for every Saiyan other than Vegeta. It was almost depressing to see so many Saiyans ignorant of the sacred armor and their ancestors' bones.  
  
Vegeta, of course, ended up with the oldest and most sacred of the relics - the armor of the first king. Gohan took a lot of the books, since most were actual Saiyan texts. He said he wanted to acquaint himself with the nonfighting aspects of Saiyan culture. Vegeta told that that would take him a good ten minutes, if he read slowly. Of course, this was exaggeration. It had actually taken Gohan two hour of constant reading. Goku took a picture of his old family that Jita was not even aware she had. The picture had been buried in a text that had obviously once belonged to Bardock, and showed Bardock, Raditz, and Leema, Goku's mother. So Goku took the book and the picture. He hadn't asked too much about his mother, or any of the others in his family, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't. Jita didn't blame him.  
  
Trunks set up a room in Capsule Corp just for the relics that he, Vegeta, and Bra kept, so that slimmed Goten and Jita's collection to a manageable size, able to fit into the library. Once the house was in order, and the excitement calmed down, Goten and Jita just didn't know what to do. Goten continued training, joined often by Jita. There were household chores that the two divided up. Jita started exploring her library, which had been allotted its own room. They took walks in their new property. That was all alright, but the two became . . . well, bored. They had both grown accustomed to an active life full of responsibilities and they missed it. Jita remembered many fights that had raged between them over trivialities - Goten hadn't washed the dishes, she was playing her strange music too loud. Silly stuff, really. Reminded her of the whole deal with her roommate all over again. She wasn't about to let that happen. She loved Goten too much. Not only that, the voice was coming back. While she was reading. While she was cooking. And then, it came to her while she walking with Goten. She couldn't take it anymore, but no matter how much she and Goten thought and talked about it, they could never come up with a solution.  
  
Until she met with the idiot. Videl's father. The savior of earth. Despite her disgust at his overbearing attitude, Jita held a sort of grudging respect for a man who could survive this long when the strongest warriors in the universe clearly couldn't stand him, or only tolerated him. But his unbelievable luck hadn't been her interest.  
  
It was his dojo.  
  
Imagine - a school for warriors. She supposed she had been to them, if you counted those horrible training places as dojos. But she'd never considered it as a possible source of income. It made sense, though. Both she and Goten were experts at fighting, and they could teach warriors the desperately-needed ability of manipulating ki. Only around twenty warriors on Earth had that ability, and they wouldn't live forever. Plus, none of them had any students. The strong warriors would teach their children, and that's about it. So she and Goten could teach what they knew about fighting, which was their most valuable asset anyway. So she'd made an agreement with Hercule. He would advertise for her, and she would take the students that he didn't accept - the "younger" and "weaker" ones that he had turned away. These, she knew, were the easiest to teach. They had few preconceived notions on how to fight, and they had the greatest potential for growing in strength. So, while Hercule thought he was getting the better end of the deal, she knew otherwise. And for once, she would be doing good.  
  
Not that it would matter in the long run.  
  
A shadow passed across Jita's eyes. 'No, I won't give in to hopelessness. I can't.' And again she heard the voice in her head. Laughing. Taunting. Threatening. Tempting.  
  
"Jita."  
  
Jita broke from her reverie to acknowledge the form that had just flown up. It was Vegeta. He did not need to be here right now. Whenever he was around, especially lately, the voice got so loud she almost forgot herself. It had been getting better, but now it was just as bad as when she first came to live on Earth. And all she had to do was -  
  
The look in his eyes pulled her back. She'd probably been giving him a strange look. 'Control yourself.'  
  
"What's wrong with you, child?"  
  
Somehow the harsh tone and the use of the hated name for her pulled Jita completely out of her dark desire. "Nothing, old man," she said, smiling at the irked expression she got.  
  
He eyed her suspiciously, but decided to accept her flippant evasion. The prince turned his attention to the building. "It's almost finished?"  
  
The dojo. She'd sunk the rest of her money into it, and Bulma had made sure they'd gotten a loan and the permit to build it. The business permit had just about gone through, and before long they could accept students. It had taken six months work and planning, and now it was . . .  
  
"Yes. Almost finished." After a few minutes silence, Jita was tired of the tension. Vegeta was putting something off. "Why exactly are you here?"  
  
Vegeta crossed his arms. "No reason. Merely boredom."  
  
Jita smirked, concentrating on the conversation. She couldn't lose focus. She was stronger than that. "Maybe you need something to fill your time, to help with the ennui. Maybe, I don't know, a teaching job?"  
  
Vegeta glared. "I won't be teaching any of those weakling human brats for you. I'm not THAT bored. Besides -"  
  
He continued talking, but Jita didn't hear him. Concentrating on the conversation wasn't working. She couldn't concentrate. She knew Vegeta was saying something, but she could only tell because his mouth was moving. Blood and the voice pounded in her ears, drowning out everything on Earth, drawing her nearer to Hell. The sky turned red, and then black. She felt like she was falling into the abyss - the abyss that had been her home for some many years. The voice was deafening. The screams were deafening. 'Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him kill him kill him kill kill kill -'  
  
"Jita, wake up!"  
  
Someone was shaking her, but she didn't want to get up. She didn't want to do anything. She couldn't face him again. She couldn't face the voice again. No more training. No more torture. No more tears. No more pain. Please please please please please please -  
  
"Wake up, child!"  
  
Jita forced herself slowly back into reality as the pain gradually died down. She slitted her eyes open, and caught sight of a man. She almost panicked, until she realized that it wasn't him. It wasn't the voice at all. It was Vegeta. She wasn't in Hell - she was on earth, at her home, in front of her dojo, with her brother.  
  
"Wake -"  
  
"I'm awake!"  
  
Jita pulled herself up, shaking with unspeakable emotion - fear and rage. Too close. She had gotten too close. She knew it. And she'd blanked out. That was the most powerful attack the voice had used against her while she was conscious. Maybe it was because she hadn't been sleeping, so he couldn't attack her in her dreams. Or maybe it was because she'd been so happy recently, and he needed to give her a dramatic reminder of the control he had over her. Whatever it was, it made her sick. And afraid.  
  
Vegeta was staring at her, wild-eyed, as she tried to regain her composure. "What the hell just happened?" he demanded.  
  
What the 'hell.' Irony. She pulled herself together, schooling her face into her customary expression of cool indifference. "I'm fine. I'm just . . . tired.  
  
*****  
  
"HAI!"  
  
Goten dodged, only to find himself yet again cornered by Vegeta. No matter how fast he moved, Vegeta was one step ahead of him, dogging his every move, finding weaknesses in Goten's defense, and exploiting them. This was nothing like fighting his dad or Gohan.  
  
Vegeta got in two good hits to Goten's stomach, causing the young man to gasp in shock. Goten panicked and formed a close-range ki blast, and actually caught Vegeta off guard, but Goten found himself contending with two ki blasts a second later. Losing track of the close assault, Goten fell from the sky and attempted to regain the advantage.  
  
But his respite was short-lived. Vegeta was behind him in an instant, kicking him forward. Goten rounded on him, feinted a charging punch, only to disappear and reappear to Vegeta's side. Goten was able to get in two punches to Vegeta's face before finding himself being double-fisted to the ground.  
  
All during the fight Goten had seemed surprised. No wonder. Vegeta had been surprised at his own decision. He rarely ever sparred with the boy. Their relationship had never been like that. Still wasn't. Oh, sure, they were related now. The boy was even nobility. And, for a while, Vegeta had been the only father-figure Goten had known.  
  
This actually pained Vegeta in a few ways. One, he knew what it was like to not have a father. While others praised Kakarrot for his heroic sacrifice, Vegeta had known how the hero was dooming his son, however inadvertently. Heroic sacrifice. Futile is more like it. It's not like Vegeta had ever made a futile heroic sacrifice . . .  
  
Another thing that pained the prince was his own responsibility. Children copied their elders. It was a fact of nature. He'd grown to realize that he remembered less of his father and more of Frieza actually raising him, and he knew that he had imitated Frieza.  
  
It hadn't taken long of watching Trunks grow up to realize he might not grow into the polite young man from the future timeline. His Trunks practically worshipped the ground he walked on, which was alright, since he was a prince. But it also meant he'd been for the first time responsible for another person, not just in body but in mind and soul. Goten practically worshipped Trunks and the two boys spent all their time together. All the other men in Goten's life were doing their own things. Chichi's father was too old, Kakarrot had been dead, Gohan was little more than a boy himself, Krillen was busy building his own family, and the others were too involved in their own lives. Plus it caused them too much pain to see this Kakarrot look-alike running around. So Vegeta had become his role model by default, simply because he was around. And it meant he was responsible.  
  
While young, the boys had had an absolute fascination with fighting, almost an obsession. They had no qualms about rule-breaking, and didn't truly respect and obey anyone who couldn't beat them up. Vegeta smirked. He remembered that Chichi had gotten rather angry at some of the words Goten had picked up from him. He hadn't meant to corrupt the child - he just didn't see the big deal in using "bad words", as the children had called it. But the constant worries about how the boys were turning out from both Bulma and Chichi began to get to him. What if he was breeding little monsters? More of himself - carrying on Frieza's legacy of heartless pain and destruction by making the boys into killers - just by living around them. It seemed that that was happening from watching them fight Buu. The fact that they were trying to save Earth never really sunk in. They were more worried about how "cool" the fight was. The got too cocky and ended up getting beaten. Too much like himself.  
  
Vegeta's fears were, of course, unrealized. Both men had grown up fine, for the most part. Trunks had acted on a tendency toward business and administration, but that was just the royalty in him - the part that was meant to be ruling over an empire. And Goten . . . well . . .  
  
He was the most Saiyan of the lot. Moody - almost abrasive at times. With a need for battle that matched - almost rivaled the full Saiyans. And a thirst to prove himself when everyone overshadowed him. Perhaps Vegeta had had a bigger influence on him than any other had. Who else could have made him that Saiyan? It certainly couldn't be his father. Goten had never emulated his father.  
  
"Vegeta, what's this all about?"  
  
The fight was over, and Goten was on the ground again wiping blood from his mouth. Vegeta had gotten the better of the younger man. Yes, the boy could turn level three, but he wasn't as experienced in fighting different people, having only sparred with Goku, Gohan, Trunks, and Jita, the only ones who were willing and were on roughly the same level. He'd lost out on adaptability, whereas people like Goku, Vegeta, Jita, and even Gohan, had had a wide range of opponents in the past. "What do you mean?" Vegeta responded.  
  
"Vegeta, you've never sparred one-on-one with me, not even when I'd worm my way into training with you and Trunks." This elicited a smile, but Goten then turned serious. "Is this about Jita?"  
  
'Perceptive brat, too,' Vegeta mused. "Yes, this is about Jita. You know about her, don't you?"  
  
Goten paused for a minute, pain flashing in his eyes, just enough to tell Vegeta that yes, indeed, Goten knew all about her.  
  
Vegeta sighed. He hated meddling in emotional affairs. It ruined his image. But this was his sister. "She needs help. Help that I'm not able to give her. Help that I could never give to her." Vegeta voice was soft with regret. He stared at the puzzled Goten. "She's not stable."  
  
Goten laughed bitterly. "Are any of us?" At Vegeta's harsh look, he amended his flippancy. "Alright. OK. I'm trying to help her." He looked down, his voice softening. "Do you know that she hears the voice, in her head? For a while - one our honeymoon - it was better. But it's gotten worse. Sometimes I can hear her talking to him, and it freaks me out. I try to drown out the voice, to keep her busy, but . . ."  
  
The pain was palpable, and Vegeta actually felt pity for the boy. A boy so much like himself, yet with his father's caring nature. A torturous combination. And it could destroy him.  
  
*****  
  
"Hey. Wake up."  
  
Jita felt a jostling at her shoulder, rousing her from a troubled sleep. She looked up from where she'd been lying on the table, her arm creased with a notebook spiral pattern. The table was littered with official- looking papers and notes written with her hurried scrawl and Goten's neat pen. The paperwork was almost finished, and in her hurry to get everything done, she'd stayed up late again and fallen asleep.  
  
Goten hugged her from behind and started massaging her shoulders. Even when she'd been sleeping, she was tense. Of course, that could be from using the table as a pillow. "You need to sleep - and not at the table," he softly reprimanded her.  
  
Jita looked up at him. "Last I checked, I was your wife, not your child," she retorted.  
  
Goten smiled wryly. "Well, since we decided not to worry about having children for a while now, I feel perfectly justified in babying you a little."  
  
"Watch what you say, Goten. Those words may be your last."  
  
Goten chuckled at the threat that had been cut into by a yawn. "It would sound more threatening if you actually got some sleep and looked like you could fight."  
  
Jita growled in frustration. "Stop bugging me. I'm going to bed. I've just got to take care of these things. I want to get them sent off tomorrow."  
  
Goten checked the wall clock. "Actually, that would be today, since it's way past midnight." When she made no move toward the bedroom, Goten sat in the chair across from her. He gulped hard. There was something he wanted to say, but it couldn't seem to get past his throat, which was closing up in anticipation. "Jita, I . . ."  
  
Jita looked wearily over to her husband. "What is it, Goten?"  
  
Goten didn't seem to know where to look. He kept looking from the table to the wall clock to her eyes, and then would start the cycle all over again. "I . . . I wanted to talk to you about the voice."  
  
Jita gasped. The voice. This was the first time Goten had ever mentioned it aloud. She had never even told him about the voice. He must have figured it out on his own. A flash of emotion passed over her eyes, but she managed to keep her composure for the moment. "Why do you want to talk about it? It never bothers you."  
  
"Yes it does," Goten said, his eyes wide. "It concerns you, so it concerns me. I just don't want you to be in pain. I'm worried about you. So is Vegeta. I mean, it's not like you're in Hell right now. He shouldn't have that much of a hold on you."  
  
"Goten, like it or not, he does have a hold over me." Jita voice was thick with unshed tears. Tears she refused to shed. The voice was laughing softly in her ears. "He has my soul. It doesn't belong to me anymore. Once someone has your soul, that person has you. And I sold it to him. I deserve this."  
  
Goten's eyes were brimming with tears as he mutely shook his head, denying her self-judgment. Jita took a shuddering sigh. She didn't want to face this, but there were things that Goten needed to understand. "When you die," she continued, "you will go to heaven, or maybe even to train in the otherworld with the great warriors of the past. When I die, I will go to Hell. I had a choice before, and I made the wrong decision. It was stupid, but it is something I can't take back. Our marriage vows were for as long as we are existing. Know this - as soon as I die, I will no longer exist. You can't wish me back with the dragonballs. You can't come after me. You can't see me in the afterlife. I will be gone. Don't hold on to me after I'm gone. I will only bring pain to you."  
  
Tears were flowing readily down her cheeks now, and Goten was holding back sobs. No. He couldn't let her go. It just wasn't right. He loved her too much. "Maybe we could fix it somehow. Talk to the Supreme Kai or -"  
  
"Goten, don't you get it? We can't fix this. I brought it on myself. I deserve it. I'm not a good person, like you are. I may not be evil, but I'm not good. I - I already tried," she ended with a whisper.  
  
Goten blinked through his tears in confusion. "You already tried what? What did you try, Jita?"  
  
Jita took a deep breath. "I gathered the dragonballs. I wished for my soul, or control over my soul, or to break the link - I tried a lot of wordings. All were beyond the dragon's power. He said he had no power over the fate of souls and where they go in the afterlife. He'd have to be more powerful than the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell, and he's not. So you see? I tried. Goten, do you not realize what that means? That means that he may not be able to resurrect me from the dead if I'm killed by unnatural means. And even if he is - well - I still don't know how I'd come back. I don't know what the voice would do to me. I don't know -"  
  
"Jita," Goten interrupted sharply. "Stop talking like that. You're not going to die for a very long time, and when you do I won't stop loving you. I won't give up on you. Nothing you say will make me change my mind."  
  
He had moved around the table and was hugging her tightly as he said this. Their tears mingled, and they kissed. They kissed to hold on to each other - to ward off all the bad things and harsh realities. To ward off the distant, uncertain future. The kiss was almost painful, because it had been birthed from pain. Goten picked Jita up in a smooth move, never breaking the kiss, and carried her to their bedroom. He laid her on the bed, finally breaking the kiss. He laid in the bed himself and held her, partly to comfort her and partly to comfort himself. As he felt weariness overtake his body and his mind, he whispered in her ear, "I won't let you go."  
  
Jita turned her head and looked in Goten's eyes, a bittersweet love shining in them. "No matter what happens, Goten, know that you've made my life a heaven. That's all that matters."  
  
The voice was silenced for once, leaving Jita free to drift to sleep. As Goten was falling into slumber, one thought kept repeating in his brain like a mantra. 'I won't let you go.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (Mr. Satan in this chapter too. Do not take offense at my calling him an idiot. I just think that Jita would call him an idiot. Don't be mad at me! *hides behind desk* Alright, I'm better now. Don't worry, you'll know when I leave this story. I will write something commonly known as an epilogue. Can't wait for your next chap on "A Saiyan's Worth"), aqua-illusion (As you'll notice, I commonly focus on the lost Saiyan culture. Mostly because it's a field with so many opportunities. DBZ shows nothing of Saiyan culture, except a vague sense of hierarchy and a different moral system from that of Earth. Most of the Saiyan traditions commonly written in fanfiction is - well - mating traditions. And I'm not talking about weddings, either. You know what I'm talking about. Anyway. Glad you liked my wedding. I really worked long and hard on that. Any western wedding would have had Judeo- Christian beliefs, and any eastern wedding would have been too eastern. I've been trying to make the culture of the DBZ environment a bit generic, since they're not even in Japan, but in Chikyuu. It's difficult to write with any accuracy. I usually just try to relate the environment with myself and the readers. Oh well. I've rambled on enough.), Howler (It's my boyfriend! I'm so glad you reviewed me. Everyone, he helped me write chap 27. You know, the finals special with all the humor. Anyway. Love you!), and Omega (I wasn't worried about you not reviewing. You've been faithful to this story ever since the beginning. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. And - well - the enemy kind of appeared. My climax may not be what you think. And I may take a few more chapters to get to it. But don't worry. I'm getting there. In fact, I'm almost there. The suspense is killing me. Or it may just be the lack of sleep. Whatever.)  
  
Next chapter is for the most part written. I'll try to get it out as soon as possible. 


	31. What's in a Name?

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I'm literally dead from mid-terms. Well, I was. Then I got King Kai to ask some people to gather the dragonballs and bring me back to life, so here I am. (she pauses and realizes how pathetically detached from reality she sounds) Anyway. I think you'll find this chapter worth waiting for. It's long, with some very interesting developments. Enjoy!  
  
*****  
  
Chapter 30: What's in a Name?  
  
"Good. And again? Good. And again? NO!"  
  
The abrupt noise shook the four humans and one demi-Saiyan out of their stupors. Two hours of training at twice Earth's gravity, and they were starting to feel it, at least, all except Pan. But they couldn't tell this to the Wicked Witch of Satan City. Not if they wanted to run another hundred laps.  
  
This was why Jita wasn't teaching the younger ones.  
  
She'd started out teaching a few younger ones, but she didn't have the patience. Goten, on the other hand, had infinite patience with children, and now taught the beginner courses, leaving the advanced for Jita. The only problem was . . .  
  
"You've been taught all wrong!" Jita was continuing to rant to her most advanced class. "Forget everything and do what I say! Otherwise you're wasting your time here!" Jita paused to regard her students. Seeing how tired the humans were, she set them to ki-control exercises for another hour and left the room.  
  
Jita picked up a paper labeled "Advanced Class" and began to write comments under each name. She sighed and shook her head. She knew she was being hard on them, and exaggerating their faults just a little. But she couldn't let them get too cocky, especially Pan. A lot of this was elementary for Pan, and she sometimes scoffed at doing "the basics." But Jita put her through it anyway, since she saw a few flaws in the child's technique.  
  
The humans weren't so bad. At least it was better teaching them than the small children. Yes, it was wise of Goten to take over that age group. He was much more patient with the childish antics that Jita found distracting. So Jita found herself teaching far fewer students, yet each of the older students had much more class time than the children. It pretty much evened out.  
  
Jita shook off a twinge in her stomach and focused on the sheet in front of her, as well as carefully monitored her student's ki levels. Jita had become much more adept in sensing ki, especially the five students in her highest class. There was Pan, and then two males and two females all between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. They had all had former martial arts training, which was the biggest problem Jita ran in to. One of the males - Danto - refused to admit when he was in the wrong and constantly quoted his former sensei. He wasn't as bad as when he first came in, mostly because one of the girls had dealt him a humiliating defeat, but there was still some arrogance.  
  
On the other side of the coin, there was the humble Pecon. While he was respectful, he was also self-effacing - well, more like self-deprecating. He had almost no self-esteem. He was a young monk from, coincidentally, the Orinji temple. He had heard tales of another monk leaving the temple and becoming very powerful. So the boy followed in that monk's footsteps and went to find the Turtle Master. Of course, he had not known that the old sensei was dead, and instead he found his role model Krillen. Krillen refused to train the boy on the grounds that he had completely retired from fighting and was too involved with his own family. He told the boy to train at Jita and Goten's dojo, so here he was. He was one of their few full-time students, since he had to live at the dojo. They'd been working a long time to get his self-confidence up, but Pecon was convinced that he wasn't very powerful. He was actually the second strongest in the class, since Pan was there, but he could never get a clear-cut victory over anyone. He was too convinced that he should lose. Though she couldn't understand his motivation, she still tried to help him.  
  
Jita focused her attention on the girls. Krianan was, well . . . Jita liked her. The girl has the quintessential militant feminist. It was just sort of refreshing to see a girl stand up for herself and all other women in a society that bred weak-willed women. Krianan was the one that beat Danton the first day. She'd told Jita that she'd learned martial arts just to show that it wasn't just a man's field. She was always angry about something. There was just something about her that reminded Jita of herself, so she pretty much took Krianan under her wing. Krianan didn't live there, but she spent most of her time there anyway.  
  
The last girl was named Darjili. She was the most cheerful kid Jita had ever seen. The girl had wavy blue hair and green eyes. She also lived at the dojo, claiming that her home was too far away to commute. She kept this home a secret. If the girl wasn't so happy, then Jita would have been worried. As it was, Jita wasn't worried about her at all, and let Darjili keep her secrets if she wanted to.  
  
Jita made her notes and put her head on the table over them. Why was she so exhausted? She just felt drained of all energy. A suspicion was beginning to form in her mind, but she kept thinking it was impossible. She'd taken precautions and everything. She didn't want to have to deal with this right now. A sharp pain was hitting her stomach, accompanied by a wave of nausea. After a few seconds of controlled breathing, she thought she had it under control.  
  
Until she ran to the restroom and puked her guts out.  
  
*****  
  
'Today . . . was fun.'  
  
Goten sat on the couch, looking over the notes he'd taken - evaluations of each student. He couldn't believe how much he loved teaching those little ones. They were so trusting . . . it almost made you feel like a god . . . and scared to death that you'd screw everything up. Yes, he'd definitely made the right choice in teaching the beginners.  
  
He looked at his wife's (could he ever get used to that?) notes in curiosity. She was rather critical of her students, not used to dealing with those of human strength. She handled three classes, like him, and each were rather small. They were a young school yet, and still had to build a reputation. The most advanced had only five members. One of them, he'd been surprised to see, was Pan. She was already a pretty good fighter, but maybe she couldn't resist having access to the training equipment. Or perhaps she wished to learn from a strong female fighter. Girls were funny that way.  
  
Speaking of which, Jita was acting a bit strange. Angrier than usual. She'd canceled a class that afternoon and left without saying a word. So extremely unlike her. If she was anything, she was responsible. Come to think of it, she'd been acting strangely a lot lately.  
  
"Watcha doing?"  
  
Goten jumped literally six feet in the air, banging his head on the living room ceiling. Rubbing his head, he turned to seen his purple-haired childhood friend. "What's wrong with you?! Don't sneak up on me like that!"  
  
Trunks laughed evilly. "You should be more on your guard, Mr. Super Saiyan 3."  
  
"I'm not used to being attacked in my own house. And who invited you in?" Goten replied shortly.  
  
"What do you think I am, a vampire? I come and go as I please."  
  
Goten laughed. He hadn't spoken to Trunks in a while. Been too busy. "So, how's . . . whatever it is you've been doing?"  
  
Trunks plopped down on an adjacent chair. "I've been going insane. But Mom loves it now that I'm taking over the business part of Capsule Corp. She was not that adept at it. You know, she lost millions of zeni in bad business deals. I . . ."  
  
Trunks was cut off by a certain glaring presence from the doorway. Without a word, Jita swept past the two men, grabbed her notes, and took them into the adjoining dining room.  
  
"Hello Jita," Trunks said reluctantly, much to Goten's chagrin. When she was like this, it was best not to speak to her.  
  
Her glare deepened, and the two men wilted under the intensity. But just when she looked like she was going to go into a tirade, she calmly said, "Trunks, are you staying for supper?"  
  
Trunks shifted uneasily. "Um . . . yeah, sure."  
  
Jita put her notes down and walked into the kitchen. Trunks eyes his friend. "What was that about?"  
  
Goten was curious as well. Maybe the voice was bothering her more. He had to know if it was. Giving Trunks a look, he walked into the kitchen to be greeted by the clanging of pots and pans. Jita was floating all over the kitchen, her ability to fly overcoming the difficulties of reaching things inherent to her height. She usually didn't like him in the kitchen when she was cooking, but it was a risk he had to take. "Jita, what's wrong?"  
  
Jita whirled around, a flash of panic in her eyes. She quickly recovered. "Nothing's wrong. Now, out of the kitchen. Go talk to Trunks."  
  
'Oh, well,' he thought. 'I'll have to wait until she's ready. Besides, she'd tell me about the voice. No, it's something else.'  
  
Jita watched him go, and continued cooking, trying to concentrate on the meal.  
  
'Chicken is done, peas are on the stove, rice is almost done, rolls in the oven, tea is made, exactly how am I going to tell him.'  
  
Jita was worrying herself sick - no . . . maybe it wasn't worry that was making her sick. But she still worried, all through setting the table and finishing the food preparations. She'd had to deal with new situations continually since she'd been reincarnated, but this . . . was quite overwhelming.  
  
"Goten! Answer the phone!" Jita yelled, knowing he wouldn't without prompting. She pulled the chicken out of the oven and set if on the table.  
  
"Jita! Mom wants to talk to you!"  
  
'Chichi! Oh, no! Suppose she'd blabbed it out without thinking. No, Jita. Calm yourself. She didn't tell anyone.'  
  
Ordering the men to put the food on the table and fix the glasses, she grabbed the phone from Goten. She was greeted by an accusation.  
  
Trunks looked forlornly at the cooling food, knowing they shouldn't start until Jita got there. "What's up with her, anyway?"  
  
Goten sighed, his hands combing through his hair. "I don't know. Can never tell with her. First she's fine, then . . ."  
  
Goten cut off. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Jita's words caught his ear.  
  
". . . No, I haven't told him yet . . . no . . . I don't know . . . I don't know why I told you . . . no . . . I know . . . I'll tell him . . . dinner's getting cold . . . I said dinner is getting cold . . . I'm hanging up . . . OK Chichi . . . bye."  
  
Trunks and Goten watched as Jita swept into the dining room, looking the picture of frustration. "Tell him what? Is him me?" Goten demanded.  
  
Jita started, caught off guard. "No . . . nothing. It's nothing."  
  
The air at the table was tense during the meal. 'I must have been braindead when I agreed to stay,' thought Trunks. This was more like a meal used to be at Capsule Corp. He hated it. Brought back too many memories. He had to break the silence. "So, how's the teaching going?"  
  
Goten felt a bit guilty for putting Trunks through this, so he decided to play along. He'd been falsely cheerful practically his whole life; why not now? "It's great! I love the kids. How about you, Jita?"  
  
"I'm pregnant."  
  
The reactions were actually kind of priceless. Goten did a sort of double- take, his jaw dropping comically. Trunks eyes widened as he lamely said, "So, I guess that's a yes then." Trunks also received a glare from Jita, making him really wish he wasn't there.  
  
Goten was still trying to get his bearings. "Jita . . . wow . . . how long have you known?"  
  
Jita stared at him stubbornly. "Since this afternoon. Chichi told me what was happening to me. No one else knows . . . well, except you. And - Trunks?"  
  
Trunks was heading for the door. "Gonna leave now. Can I tell anyone?"  
  
Jita sighed. "Yeah, whatever. I'd really rather not tell anyone else. Unless . . ." she looked at Goten, but he simply stared at her. Trunks took this time for a hasty escape.  
  
"Goten, say something."  
  
Goten couldn't say anything. It was - so unreal. This wasn't happening to him. This wasn't happening to her. This didn't happen to young warriors, barely starting out their adult life. At least, he was just starting out anyway. Besides, they couldn't afford it. They still had debts, and with the payments were barely breaking even. They'd be feeding yet another Saiyan. And what did they know about raising a child? Goten had always had parental issues, and Jita - let's not go into that nightmare of a childhood. First raised by servants, then Vegeta . . . when he could be with her at all. What screwed up child could they produce? He wasn't ready to be a father? What if he was just like his own -  
  
"Goten, I am afraid."  
  
Fear. Kami, yet, that's what he was feeling. Pure diving panic. How were they going to get through this? Goten's mind was a blur. For the first time in a while, things were out of his control. He didn't know . . .  
  
"GOTEN, SAY SOMETHING!"  
  
He realized he was crying. The meal was sitting before them, long forgotten, tears sliding on to the plate. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes angrily. "I'm sorry, Jita. It just caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting-"  
  
"I wasn't either," she said, now calmer.  
  
"But, weren't you taking-"  
  
"I talked with Dr. Russel," Jita interrupted. "You know, the one who knows about Saiyans. He said that the pills just didn't work for me like they work for the human women. We're lucky that it happened this late."  
  
Goten looked up. "I'm sorry how I reacted."  
  
Jita looked at him wearily. "Forget it. I reacted the same way."  
  
The two sat in silence for a few minutes more, the constant drip from the faucet the only sound in the house. All the students who lived there had gone out for the evening, and Goten and Jita were alone. The two were lost in their own thoughts.  
  
"Listen, Jita?"  
  
Jita looked up sharply at the sound. "What?"  
  
"I . . ." Goten paused to gather his thoughts. "I know we wanted to wait just a little longer, but it has been a little more than a year. We've had time to settle in, so maybe now is the time."  
  
"Now will have to be the time."  
  
Goten looked troubled at her response, until he saw the slight upward curve of her lips. He laughed nervously. This wouldn't be so bad after all. He smiled. "So. Boy or girl?"  
  
Jita looked at him exasperatedly. "It's a fetus, Goten. We don't know yet."  
  
Goten laughed. "I know that. I mean, what do you want?"  
  
Jita scrunched her forehead. "What I really want is an easy pregnancy. Saiyan women are notorious for low fertility rates. It's because of ki."  
  
"Ki?"  
  
Jita sighed. "For the next ten months . . ."  
  
"Eight months."  
  
"No, ten months for Saiyans. As I was saying, for the next ten months, I cannot fight or utilize ki. I shouldn't have even flown around the kitchen tonight. Even the ki used for flying will kill the baby." Jita looked into Goten's eyes. "I don't want to take that risk."  
  
Goten's eyes widened. "Don't worry. We can ask people to take your classes, or you can just oversee, or . . . We'll think of something." He gave Jita a reassuring smile, which actually did reassure her. "We'll be alright."  
  
Jita smiled and forced some of the now cold food down her throat. Yes, they would be all right.  
  
*****  
  
Jita sighed in exasperation as she heard the door slam, heralding a crying Darjili. The girl's perennial cheerfulness had met its match.  
  
"I'll be right back," Jita said to Chichi, who was teaching her how to knit. It wasn't that Jita couldn't buy clothes for her baby. The knitting got rid of some of Jita's nervous energy.  
  
"Go ahead, dear," Chichi said cheerfully. "It'll give you good practice for my grandchild."  
  
Jita closed her eyes in wry annoyance. Chichi never stopped talking about "her grandchild." It was really getting on Jita's nerves. She shook it off and walked into the library, where Darjili was huddled in a corner, sniffling.  
  
"Darjili," Jita said softly. "Why do you let him get to you like that?"  
  
Darjili just sniffled and wiped her tears angrily. "I wish he would just stop yelling at me."  
  
"I yell at you."  
  
Darjili smiled. "Yeah, but that's different. I know you don't really mean it personally."  
  
Jita folded her arms. "And you think he does? He barely even knows you."  
  
Darjili looked up with innocent green eyes. "When are you going to start teaching us again?"  
  
Jita rubbed her temple. "Not for a while now. Now let's go talk to him."  
  
Darjili rubbed her face, embarrassed by how blotchy it was, but followed Jita across the across the yard into the dojo. The comforting sound of yelling students greeted them - comforting to Jita because she knew that they were all working hard even in her relative absence. She actually missed teaching, but she'd gotten some good help. While Goten was still able to handle his three younger classes, three people were teaching each of her classes. She'd gotten Gohan to talk Piccolo into taking one of the classes. Though he would deny it to his dying day, Piccolo really was good with children. Goku was teaching another class. He was a born teacher, able to calmly explain, yet not put up with any foolishness during training. She'd wanted to maybe get some human warriors involved, but all of them were either retired or working, or both. So really all that was left was Piccolo, Goku, and . . .  
  
"Vegeta."  
  
Vegeta turned around from the advanced class to scowl at his sister, turning down the gravity to ten so that she could walk into the room - the maximum amount that she could handle without ki. The fact that Vegeta had to turn it DOWN to ten told her enough. He was driving them far harder than she ever had. He wasn't used to humans. Well, training humans anyway.  
  
He turned his attention to Darjili. "Oh, so she decided to come back. Did you think you impressed anyone by your dramatic exit? You only embarrassed yourself in front of your peers."  
  
Darjili's cheeks burned as she looked at the other students, all quickly averting their eyes. "I . . . I . . ."  
  
"I'm sure," Jita stepped in, "that she didn't mean to make a scene, and that she won't again . . . What is it?"  
  
Vegeta was staring hard at girl. "What is wrong with you, child?"  
  
Darjili's eyes were starting to tear in irritation. "I . . . I . . . AAACHOOOO!!!"  
  
Suddenly, there was a completely different girl in front of the two Saiyan royals. Instead of the blue hair and sweet face, her hair was blonde and she looked ready to go on a shooting spree. Which made it not very surprising that she whipped out an impressive firearm out of nowhere.  
  
"All right, where am I?!" the strange girl said. "And who made me cry?! Someone had better answer me!"  
  
Pecon held his hands in front of him, edging forward. "Is that you, Darjili? What hap-"  
  
He was not able to get any more out. The girl chose that moment to start firing on the whole place. Of course, everyone in the room was on various stages of being bulletproof, but Jita was getting almost scared. Vegeta realized this, and moved into action. The shooting continued, the mysterious gun not running out of ammo, until Vegeta was able to wrench it out of the girl's grasp. He was also able to hold off the girl's attacks, though he noted that this girl seemed stronger than the girl she had replaced.  
  
There was a rushing sound of feet, and in moments Goten, Goku, and Piccolo had run into the room. Piccolo stayed at the door to keep the younger students from crowding the room.  
  
"What happened here?" Goten said, looking from the wide-eyed shocked students to the gun in Vegeta's hand to the strange blonde girl. "Who are you?"  
  
"I am Darjili," the girl said, arms crossed and murderous look in place. But she knew when she was outclassed in strength, so she forced herself to calm down. "Wait, OK, I remember. You're Goten, you're Jita, and I'm a student at this dojo."  
  
Vegeta was still looking at Darjili closely, gun long forgotten in his hand, though the grip was still strong enough to deter Darjili from getting it back. "Did she turn Super Saiyan? Or Super Human? She IS stronger."  
  
"Hey!" Goku interjected. "I remember this. Did she sneeze right before she changed?'  
  
Jita scowled. "Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"It's just like Lunch!" Goku said cheerfully.  
  
Vegeta rubbed his forehead. "Kakarrot, you were actually making sense for a moment, but then you started thinking about food. Learn to focus."  
  
Goku laughed. "No! I mean a person. There was this girl named Lunch I used to know. She came to live at Master Roshi's house when I first started training there because I rescued her nice personality from the police that were trying to arrest her because her mean personality robbed a bank. She just changed whenever she sneezed. First she'd be nice, and then she'd be mean."  
  
Danton smirked, seeming to regain himself. "So how is that different from girls in general?"  
  
Krianan immediately took the bait. "I'll have you know-"  
  
"Danton. Krianan," Jita interrupted. "Silence from both of you."  
  
"Where did Lunch go?" Goten said. "I've never seen her."  
  
Goku scratched his head. "I really don't know. Krillen told me she went out looking for Tien, because both personalities liked him. I never asked Tien if she found him."  
  
"She did."  
  
The group looked at Darjili in surprise. The blonde girl rolled her eyes, still irked at the fact that her gun was still being held from her by a man she was pretty sure had been rude to her. "Lunch is my mother. Tien is my father. They DO know that I'm in the city, attending school, but they don't know I'm studying martial arts. At least not yet."  
  
"Why have we never seen you transform?" Goten asked.  
  
"I'm very good at keeping from sneezing. I haven't changed into this personality around here at all, and I always seem to change back before I get here."  
  
"So how were you able to remember our names and your situation?" Pan logically asked.  
  
Darjili smirked. "I may have gotten the two personalities from my mother, but I'm not exactly like my mother. I'm still the same person with the same memories. I guess that's my father's influence. Good thing that's one of the few things I got from him. Hiding this transformation is hard enough, but imagine trying to hide another eye. I mean . . . I . . . AAACHHHOOO!!! . . . I . . . What happened?"  
  
Before them, once again, was a wide-eyed, blue-haired Darjili. The gun in Vegeta's hand had disappeared, and the girl seemed to be trying to assimilate her situation. Realization dawned on her as she noticed everyone staring at her. She looked down, avoiding all eyes, and blushed. She was obviously extremely embarrassed.  
  
Goten took the initiative, walking out of the room. "All right. Show's over everyone. Get back to class." At his words, the students obediently ran back their training rooms, silenced perhaps by the serious tone not usually present in Goten's voice. Piccolo encouraged a few of the stragglers to move it, going back to the class he was teaching. Goku took one more look at Darjili, and did likewise.  
  
Jita took Darjili's shoulder. "Let's talk." Darjili nodded numbly. "I'll have her back in a few minutes," Jita added to Vegeta. Then the two left the room, heading for Jita's office.  
  
When they arrived, Jita quickly sat down. Standing and moving around were starting to get harder. She wondered if it was the baby that was draining her energy. She supposed it didn't matter.  
  
"Now," she began.  
  
"Am I in trouble?" Darjili blurted out.  
  
Jita couldn't help but laugh. The difference between her two personalities was astonishing. The blonde Darjili would have been hostile right off, instead of this pitiful supplication. "Don't be ridiculous, girl. Of course you're not in trouble. Why would you think that?"  
  
Darjili shrugged. "I don't know. I guess . . . keeping secrets or shooting at people or something."  
  
Jita smirked. "For one thing, you were endangering no one with that disappearing gun of yours. For another," Jita's face darkened. "Everyone is entitled to their secrets."  
  
Darjili seemed relieved, but still she seemed nervous. "So, what happens now?"  
  
"Well, you're going to have to tell your parents. They need to at least know where you've been living."  
  
"OK," Darjili nodded.  
  
"And," Jita continued, "you're going to have to spend some time in your other personality."  
  
Darjili's eyes widened. "What? Why? She's so mean!"  
  
Jita shook her head. "That's what I'm worried about. She's not another person. She's you. You must learn to control that side of you, or else you're going to sneeze around people that CAN be hurt by bullets."  
  
Darjili sniffed. "I guess you're right. I HAVE almost killed someone before."  
  
"My advice on that . . . Don't kill anyone." Jita paused. "It changes a person."  
  
Darjili looked up and smiled. "Thank you. I'll talk to my parents tonight."  
  
Jita broke out of her distraction. "Good. Now go back to your training. And don't let Vegeta get to you!" she yelled after her.  
  
"I won't!" Darjili yelled back, running down the hallway.  
  
Jita buried her face in her hands in fatigue. Yet another thing to worry about. A student of her dojo killing innocent bystanders. That would ruin too many people's lives. Jita smirked. This so-called free life tended to produce a lot of worry and responsibility. Typical.  
  
"You handled that well."  
  
Chichi walked into the room, knitting needles in hand. Jita offered no response. Chichi furrowed her brow in concern. "Jita?"  
  
"Huh? What?" Jita broke out of her thoughts. "Oh. Thanks. I had to do something."  
  
Chichi was still concerned. "Is the voice bothering you again?" she said hesitantly.  
  
Jita cocked her head in confusion. "What? Oh, that. No, I was just thinking." She paused, and then smiled slightly. "Actually, the voice hasn't bothered me for a long time."  
  
Chichi sat in the chair opposite Jita. "Why do you think that is? Has it gotten bored with you?"  
  
"No. He won't get bored with me. It's not that."  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
Jita again smiled softly. "I think it's the child. I think he can't bother me with the child inside of me."  
  
Chichi's eyes went all sparkly. "That's so wonderful. But what about when you have the child."  
  
Jita laughed. "I expect things to go back to normal. At least, normal for me anyway."  
  
But Chichi interpreted the look in Jita's eyes. "Jita, you'll do fine. You handle your students wonderfully, far better than I thought you would. You're going to be a wonderful mother."  
  
Jita stared at Chichi with the most serious expression on her face. "I hope you're right, Chichi. 'Cause I couldn't bear to have my child suffer like most Saiyan children have suffered."  
  
Chichi nodded in understanding. "Even the most conscientious of parents can't protect their children from everything. I tried, but I never could. Even if I had kept my training up and become a fighter, it wouldn't have helped. I've come to accept that now. But for your sake, and my grandchild's sake, I hope you can. Now," Chichi stood up. "Let's go back in the house. I got that catalogue with the nursery decorations. And I brought a name book. My grandchild needs a name."  
  
Jita laughed in her throat. "All right. Fine, Chichi." She got up. "But I think it's too early for any of that."  
  
"Nonsense," Chichi said.  
  
Chichi continued talking as they walked down the hall. Jita couldn't resist looking in on her advanced class. She did a sort of double-take. There, going one on one with Pan, was a blonde Darjili. As the two broke apart, Darjili turned to Jita and winked before going back to her match.  
*****  
  
Months passed. Jita had stopped getting angry at people for feeling her belly. She'd finally stopped getting irritated at the little Saiyan kicking her from the inside. She had NOT gotten used to not being able to fight . . . or fly . . . or use her ki in any way. She'd finally gotten Goten to put all her kitchen supplies crowded on lower shelves. What really bothered her is that he didn't even have to levitate to get the things. Why did everyone have to be so tall?  
  
Jita was getting nervous. It was getting about time to have the kid, and she was torn between wanting it out of her now, and wanting to keep it in her. As long as the baby was in her, the voice didn't bother her. But having the baby was so inconvenient . . . and painful. She was tired all the time, she had no stamina, she had the weirdest cravings, and she was actually getting emotional. No wonder Saiyan women rarely reproduced. Body and mind seemed to be in constant mutiny. The only thing that was getting her through this with the little sanity she already had was Goten, and even he drove her crazy.  
  
The baby shower had been embarrassing. Since there was no Saiyan equivalent of the tradition, the entire thing was done following human customs. The cake with the frosting that was too sweet. The chalky pastel mints. The disgusting punch made with pineapple and 7up. The gifts that were all in yellow. It was the most ludicrously cute experience that Jita had ever gone through. And the worst thing was, she couldn't torture the men by making them come. It was for women only. But somehow she got through it.  
  
She had become an object of curiosity for the students. Many times she would have to refer a child to their parents when the child asked how Jita had gotten like that. The most embarrassing time was when Pecon asked. Being a monk, he had no experience with such things. Thankfully, Goten had the presence of mind to take Pecon aside and talk with him. Pecon had been very quiet since then. Jita just hoped he hadn't been scarred for life.  
  
Jita sighed, climbing up the ladder with difficulty to put up her books. She knew that Goten tried, but she like to keep her library tidy. She didn't want to ruin the nice books, and she always wanted to know where to find them. But Goten was trying, she had to give him that. He was at the grocery store right now, a job that was usually hers. She looked at her watch. It was getting about time for him to be finished. She shook her head. Men. They were so extremely helpless.  
  
Jita gasped, clutching her stomach suddenly. That was unexpected. She climbed down the ladder, just to be on the safe side. While she had never adopted that philosophy for herself, she wasn't worried about herself. She was worried about the child.  
  
As she was sitting down to recover from the contraction, Jita noticed she had left her diary on the table. She frowned. She didn't want to leave it out in the open. She had given the children permission to read anything on the lower shelves and the tables, but she didn't want any of them reading that. It was too personal, and it was too graphic. She had recorded some of her more unpleasant thoughts and experiences in the document. She usually kept it on the highest shelf, in her private collection. 'Well,' she though, 'no harm in putting one more book up there.'  
  
She put the book under her arm, moved the ladder over to the appropriate shelf, and climbed up there. She had put it among some books that would be pretty boring to younger readers. Smiling with satisfaction, she started to climb down.  
  
Suddenly, the world exploded in pain. Jita couldn't think and she couldn't move. The pain was enough to make her pass out. As she fell to the ground, her last conscious thought was, 'Figures.'  
  
*****  
  
"Sensei?"  
  
Pecon walked through the house, searching for Jita. He was going to pretend that he wanted to ask her something, but really he just wanted to check up on her. Ever since the talk he'd had with Goten, he'd been afraid for Jita's well-being. He understood the miracle of life, but still couldn't help but think that it must be dangerous to have another person growing inside of you. His suspicions had been confirmed as he saw Jita gradually going through more and more pain and fatigue. Why any woman would want to go through all that was beyond him. He'd asked the girls in his class this very question. Darjili (in blonde form) had just shrugged and said that it was just something most women went through, and it was necessary. Krianan had simply launched into a tirade about how it was unfair that women had to go through so much pain and men got off easy. Pecon had wisely dropped the subject, not wanting Krianan to forever label him as a chauvinist. Better to keep the peace.  
  
"Sensei?" he repeated, walking into the library. As he took in everything, he panicked. Jita seemed to just now be coming to. She looked up at him weakly, but she had cut her face and the blood was getting in her eyes; she couldn't see properly.  
  
"Goten?" she asked weakly. "Goten, are you there? I think it's time."  
  
Pecon had the presence of mind to do a quick ki-search, and realized he was the only one around. He remembered that Goten had gone to the store. He panicked, frozen in place and mute with fear. That is, until she started screaming.  
  
"GOTEN!! MAKE IT STOP!!!"  
  
Pecon suddenly pushed aside his fear. Maybe it was his fearless invincible sensei screaming on the floor that made him snap, but it was enough. He picked her up carefully and started flying to the hospital, the calming defense mechanism in his brain making him remember exactly where the hospital was. "Don't worry. You'll be fine," he reassured woman. She didn't respond, lost in the pain.  
  
He touched down in front of the hospital, ignoring the amazed people pointing at him. Nearly missing a few elderly people coming out of the doors, he ran in and rushed up to the nurse's station. "Help me," he said simply.  
  
The efficient orderlies quickly relieved Pecon of his burden. He watched them roll her away, barely aware of the nurse talking to him.  
  
"Sir," she said insistently, getting Pecon's attention. "What is the patient's name?"  
  
"Um," he took a minute to get his brain back into focus. Now that the immediate danger was passed, he was starting to feel the fear growing back in his stomach. "Jita. Her name is Son Jita."  
  
The nurse typed it into the computer. "Right," she said slowly. She quickly dialed a phone number. "Tell Dr. Russel that his "Saiyan" patient is in the maternity ward." She hung up the phone and smiled at Pecon. "What relation are you to the patient, sir?"  
  
"Um, I just a student of hers. I . . . I have to get Goten! He was at the grocery store."  
  
Pecon turned on his heels, despite the nurse's calls for him to come back, and ran into something that knocked him off his feet. He looked up, and was extremely relieved to see Goten. Goten quickly picked him up. "Where is she?" he asked, white-faced.  
  
"Sir," the nurse asked, "are you Mr. Son?"  
  
"Yes," he responded. "Where's my wife?"  
  
"She's all right," the nurse reassured him. "All I need for you to do is to fill out this one sheet and I'll get someone to take you to her room."  
  
Goten filled out the paper as quickly as he could with shaking hands. Pecon approached Goten cautiously. "Sensei? Is there anything you want me to do?"  
  
Goten added a shaky signature at the bottom, checking his watch for the date. He realized he would be remembering that very date for his child's birthday. "Yeah, Pecon. I want you to go to Capsule Corp and tell Vegeta and Bulma what's happening. They can get in touch with everyone else. Then I want you to go back to the dojo and tell anyone who shows up that all classes are cancelled until they hear back from me."  
  
"Yes, sensei," Pecon answered, grateful that he had a way to help them.  
  
As Pecon was leaving, Goten stopped him. "Thank you for taking care of Jita," he said to the monk quietly. Pecon merely nodded, and left.  
  
Goten smiled at the retreating boy. Thank Kami he had been there. Goten had not been sure if he would be able to get there in time. He had not, in fact, gone to the grocery store. He had been visiting his old training ground in the wilderness, seeing if the area had been at all healed, as well as going somewhere to clear his mind. Why was it the one time that he had taken a break in his constant vigilance when he was the most needed.  
  
"Mr. Son?"  
  
Goten turned to the orderly. He sighed and followed him. He just hoped that Jita would be all right.  
  
*****  
  
"WAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!"  
  
The boy laid in his mother's arms, his cries finally ending. Jita had paled to an unnatural pallor - Saiyan births were always difficult - but she was fine. Would recover in a few hours.  
  
After all the necessary procedures, the nurses quickly vacated the rapidly filling room. Goku and Chichi, of course, as well as Bulma and Vegeta. Pecon, having left the responsibility for the dojo with Darjili, had already walked in, demanding to know if Jita was all right. When Jita had found out what the boy had done for her, she had insisted that he come in. He was now sitting in the corner quietly, not having anything to do and not wanting to intrude, yet not wanting to leave either.  
  
The group stared at the already sleeping child. Goten sat at the side of the bed, regarding each expression. Chichi was weeping, obviously remembering the birth of her own children - and her granddaughter. Goku and Bulma were taunting each other about being old: Goku the grandfather, Bulma the aunt (and the elder of the two). Goten could sense his father was a little weirded out by becoming a grandfather again. And Vegeta was just staring at Jita and the baby, almost in disbelief.  
  
But when Jita shifted the child so everyone could see him, all taunting and reminiscing ended. Leave it to Goku to break the spell. "Hey, Vegeta, he looks just like you."  
  
As a Saiyan, the child was born with a full head of hair that was rapidly gaining its stiffness. The hair was forming into the distinctive style of Vegeta, with a few variations: the hair was more of the pure black of Goten's hair than brown, and he had bangs covering the significantly smaller widow's peak, more along the lines of Jita's hairline. His face, too, though it was actually just a male version of Jita's features. Vegeta, along with everyone else, was a little more than weirded out. "I see no similarity," Vegeta retorted, though he was proud of the resemblance.  
  
Chichi shook her head. "I don't either. He looks more like my Goten. Have you finally chosen a name?"  
  
Jita rolled her eyes. "Not this again," she said weakly.  
  
"No really," said Bulma. "I know that Saiyans don't even consider names until after birth, so that means now is the time. What name tradition are you going to use? You could always use my family's name tradition, since I don't think Trunks will ever find a wife."  
  
Goten laughed. "Underwear names? Not thanks. Maybe more like my family's tradition . . ."  
  
Vegeta cut him off. "Kami, another 'Go' name. What are you going to name him, Gonad?"  
  
Everyone laughed, except Goku. "I don't get it."  
  
Vegeta smirked at him. "You wouldn't. Besides, he should have a Saiyan name. He is mostly Saiyan, after all."  
  
Chichi shuddered at the thought. "If you think my grandson is going to have a vegetable name . . ."  
  
"His proper traditional Saiyan name would be Vegeta, following the royal bloodline," Jita interrupted, getting weird looks from everyone except her brother.  
  
"That would be confusing, especially when he grew up. I mean, look at him," Bulma commented. Everyone stared at the child, whose hair had now finished stiffening into an almost exact replica of all the Vegeta's before him.  
  
"I don't see why a name is so important. It doesn't mean anything," Bulma continued.  
  
Vegeta regarded his mate. "For a Saiyan, a name means more than that."  
  
"Vegeta's right," Jita said in a slightly stronger voice. "Every name can be translated into a characteristic, a feeling, an attitude, a saying, a philosophy . . . anything that reflects the parents or what the child would become. Like, the name 'Vegeta' means 'pride'; that could be translated s his defining characteristic - as well as his father's - or the pride of his family and his people, or a representation of the Saiyan race in general . . . it means all of these things at the same time."  
  
Bulma cast a sidelong glance at Vegeta. "That's fitting."  
  
Vegeta chose to take this as a compliment. After all, it was true. "Some Saiyans weren't that imaginative. The most common name was 'Nappa,' meaning 'warrior'."  
  
Jita started chuckling to herself. "And some weren't very accurate or prophetic. After all, Bardock named his eldest 'Radditz'."  
  
At the two royal Saiyans' amused expressions, Goten asked, "What does that name mean?"  
  
Jita looked up at her husband with a dead-pan expression. "Intelligence."  
  
After the laughter died down from people who actually got the joke, Goku couldn't stand it any longer. He didn't usually ask about his Saiyan heritage, but since Vegeta and Jita were momentarily being so open about it, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity. "What does my name mean?"  
  
Jita quickly composed herself. "You actually have an extremely good name, almost on par with 'Vegeta.' Your name encompasses the entire Saiyan philosophy - our way of life. I don't know why you don't go by that name, Kakarrot. It's much better than Goku. Vegeta, I can't think of a good translation. You're better at this language than I am."  
  
Vegeta paused for a moment, then said, "I fight to live; I live to fight."  
  
Chichi took the moment of silence as an opportunity to pick up the so-far nameless baby. Jita reluctantly relinquished the child, although it did give her some time to rest. She was more exhausted than she realized, too tired to use her healing techniques without passing out. Chichi smiled as she cuddled the baby close to her, happy to have another grandchild. "And what does 'Jita' mean?"  
  
Jita frowned, as Vegeta said automatically, if unconvincingly, "I don't remember."  
  
"No, brother, it's alright," Jita said. "You don't have to lie for me. I've come to terms with it." She addressed the others. "You have to remember that I was born without a tail." She paused, smiling thankfully at the dark brown furry tail curling around Chichi's wrist. Chichi was smiling, too. Gohan had done the same thing as a baby. "That was traditionally a point of shame on Planet Vegeta. My father even tried to have me killed, but my mother wouldn't have it. Instead, I was not given the titles of both princess and warrior, even though my birthright entitled me to the former and my power level and race entitled me to the latter. I was also given the name 'Jita,' the opposite of 'Vegeta.' The name means 'shame' and 'dishonor,' and well as 'weak'." Jita smirked, not acknowledging the fact that Goten was holding her hand in comfort. "The legacy my father gave me."  
  
The room was tense with uncomfortable silence. Chichi knew Jita would hate the pity she was feeling, but she couldn't help it. The girl's whole life had been spent fighting that legacy encompassed in her name. Chichi was then shocked out of her thoughts when she realized the baby was awake, and looking at her. He was already showing intelligence even though he was less than a day old, like all Saiyan babies she'd seen. Chichi had been confused at the birth of Krillen's baby, as well as her early years. She hadn't realized how a normal human matures, and had been convinced that Marron's strange parentage (she hadn't trusted Eighteen very much at the time) had caused the girl to be a bit mentally impaired. Chichi guessed Saiyans needed to mature quickly in their society so they could fight. Still, the fact that humans couldn't comprehend algebra and other academics at the age of three was strange to her. "My grandson still needs a name," she said aloud to herself, breaking the silence.  
  
Goten shook his head. "I can't think. He's both human and Saiyan, but we can't name him Vegeta."  
  
For one of those rare times, Goku had a good idea about something that was not fighting. "Hey, I have two names - one Saiyan and one human. Why can't we do the same for him?"  
  
When everyone recovered from the shock of Goku having a good idea, they all agreed. "Very well," Vegeta spoke. "His Saiyan name will be Vegeta, and he will carry on the royal name. But we will call him by a human name to avoid confusion."  
  
This didn't solve the problem, but it pacified the two Saiyan royals. The group began to ponder a good human name. Chichi reluctantly handed baby Vegeta over to Bulma. Bulma looked at the child closely. "You know, he kind of looks more like Gotenks, except for the hair coloration. I always thought Gotenks looked like Vegeta."  
  
Chichi laughed. "Certainly acted like it. Of course, he got that cockiness from the Trunks half."  
  
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Chichi faced him off. "It means Gotenks ignored everyone else and went off to fight Buu and underestimated him and got severely beaten up. Remind you of someone? Goten would never do that."  
  
"Woman . . ." Vegeta said warningly.  
  
"I've got it!" Goten fortunately interrupted the ensuing argument.  
  
"Got what?" Jita said, slightly disappointed. She'd wanted to hear the argument.  
  
"A fusion name. Between us. Something like, I don't know, Gota."  
  
Jita shook her head. "I don't want another 'Go' name, and it sounds too feminine."  
  
"Alright," Goten said, still thinking, not ready to give up his idea. After all, Jita got to pick the Saiyan name. He wanted to pick the human name. "How about Jiten."  
  
And once again, everyone looked at the child. His eyes had been focusing on each person speaking, as if he was following the conversation. Slowly, his mouth started forming around a word.  
  
"Ji . . . t . . . ten . . ."  
  
The group stared at the child in awe. "Well, I guess it's decided," Goku said quietly.  
  
Jita was not so surprised. She smiled proudly at her son as he was put back in her arms. "Yes. His name is Jiten."  
  
*****  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (bet you didn't expect this plot twist. Oh, and congrats on the new chapter. I feel for you on the too much work. Even an unworthy English major has no life around mid-terms. Hence, I have had no time until this Saturday to finish my chapter. But I don't EVEN complain to CS students or Engineering students. At my university, the main focus is Engineering and Architecture. If you start complaining about how much work you have to do, they'll take your head off. They're just that crazy and overworked.), tim333 (Thanks for your 2 reviews. I love your reviews. You're always so informative - and flattering, but I like criticism too. Major kudos for your latest chapter of Only Human. I'm just wondering if you're going to have some memories of Krillen being dead, or explain why he wasn't effected by that wish that brought everyone back to life, or what. Anyway.), aqua- illusion (heh-heh. Foil hats. I need to watch "Signs" again. Don't worry. Jita still reads, but she doesn't want to do the scholarly stuff for a living. She likes to fight too much.), and last, but not least, Omega (the story actually isn't that long. It just seems long because of the many short chapters at the beginning, back when I was first truly learning how to write fiction stories, and the time-scale. It does span a really huge amount of time, and I skip around to the really important stuff. I just have a few more chapters to get to the finale, and then the finale will take up a lot of chapters. I guess this really is the equivalent of a novel. And if I keep typing, this acknowledgement is going to be a novel. Cheerio.)  
  
The next chapter is all from scratch, but I'll try to get it out as soon as possible. 


	32. Maturity

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: This chapter was HARD to write. I hadn't even planned any of it. These transitions are driving me crazy. A bit of an angsty chapter here. Hope you enjoy.  
  
-----  
  
Chapter 31: Maturity  
  
The light was starting to come in the window, basking the couple in a dull grey light. There was no sun shining through the imposing clouds, but there was light anyway. Jita groaned, dropping her book and rolling over. Why did Kakarrot think it was such a great idea to put their bedroom window directly east? Was he really that much of a morning person that he couldn't understand the concept of sleeping later than dawn?  
  
But Jita knew her grumpiness was more than just the fact that she was not a morning person. It was also her child, her heir, her son . . . her brat. She'd though the pain and degradation would end after the birth. But no. Sure, she had her power back. Sure, her body wasn't swelling and hurting any more. Sure, she could go back to a more stylish mode of dress. But now there was the crying. And the feeding. And the diapers. And the late- night combination of all three. And the problem was Jiten knew exactly what he was doing. He was mentally maturing as fast as a Saiyan royal, which was light-years ahead of an average human, or even half-Saiyan, development. Along with the usual kinetic, language, and reasoning skills, Jiten was learning the fine art of manipulating his parents, and doing a fantastic job of it. He knew enough to hide his rapid maturity, because with maturity comes responsibility. Jiten enjoyed having everyone at his beck and call - especially his mother. Jita couldn't remember the last time she'd had a moment's rest. She hadn't even slept that night. Of course, the baby wasn't the only thing keeping her up. It was also the voice . . .  
  
"MMOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Jita growled in tired anger and elbowed Goten roughly. "It's your turn," she croaked out.  
  
Goten's eyes slitted open, and then closed. "He called for you," he mumbled sleepily.  
  
Jita's scowl deepened. Goten had conveniently gotten to be a heavy sleeper in the past few months. She almost pushed him out of the bed, but decided to arrange for payback later on. Maybe by taking a sleeping pill the next night and making him stay up. Chuckling at the idea, she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled to the next room.  
  
There was Jiten, already standing steadily on his chubby legs. He was weaned - which had been a terrible ordeal - and he had all his baby teeth. He still wasn't potty-trained - which Jita was NOT looking forward to - and he still fell down a bit when he walked. Once he got more experienced at walking, she'd start him on flying. Chichi had looked at her crazy when Jita had told her about flying (Children are enough trouble running all over the place), but Jita knew that Jiten would probably be long out of childhood before he could out-run or out-fly either of his parents.  
  
"What is it, Jiten?" Jita asked, not seeing, or smelling, any dire emergency.  
  
"Dropped my pillow," Jiten said innocently, pointing down at the floor.  
  
Jita's brow furrowed. "The only way it could be down there is it you dropped it on purpose." Jita picked up the pillow, threw it in the crib, and wrestled Jiten in a horizontal position. "Next time that pillow falls, you're not getting it back. Ever. Now go to sleep." Jita walked out without waiting for a response, turning off the overhead. As she was leaving she heard a soft thwump and turned to regard a grinning Jiten pointing at the pillow on the floor. Jita merely raised her eyebrows and closed the door, walking back to her own room. First rule Chichi had told her about parenting: Always keep you promise.  
  
Jiten pouted and sank back into his crib. That hadn't gone at all the way he'd planned. He'd been hoping to keep her there until he could drive her into taking him to the big bed with mommy and daddy. It'd worked before, but the old tricks weren't working anymore. He'd have to come up with fresh ideas. Some tricks still worked though. Falling when he was perfectly alright with walking went over well. He could usually get someone to carry him around that way. Stumbling over words worked too. Then he could pretend not to understand what mommy and daddy were telling him to do.  
  
Jiten squirmed in his crib, trying to get comfortable. He couldn't get his head right. He looked longingly at the pillow on the floor, whishing he hadn't pushed mommy that far. Now she really wouldn't come when he called. Jiten stuck his lips out further. It wasn't fair. He hadn't been doing anything wrong. Since when was it wrong to drop a pillow on the floor and ask for help? Jiten huffed a little impatient sigh. He'd just have to take matters into his own hands. With agility unseen in other children of eleven months, he scrambled out of his crib. He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest with both arms. He looked back at the crib, judging the distance over the bars. This was the first time he'd tied this, and Jiten just wasn't sure of what to do. He couldn't climb up holding the pillow, and his tail couldn't wrap around it. He doubted he could jump the distance yet, and even if he could it would probably make too much racket. He didn't want to chance annoying mommy further this close to breakfast. Jiten looked down at his tail. Grandpa had told him of all the things he used to do with his tail - hang onto things, fly like a helicopter . . . All really neat things. But Jiten knew his tail wasn't very strong yet, and using his tail to pull himself up and over would probably hurt really bad. Of course, it didn't occur to Jiten to just throw the pillow into the crib and climb in. That would have been too simple.  
  
Jiten thought about flying. He thought about flying most of the time. It was just so neat. And everyone else did it. Grandpa would fly in and out, usually carrying Grandma. Mommy would hover around in the kitchen and the library. Everyone flew in the spider building - the name he had secretly used for the dojo. He wanted to fly so bad, but no one would teach him. He'd seen it done about million times, though. How hard could it be?  
  
Jiten stood perfectly still and stared straight ahead. He remembered the look of concentration on everyone's face. Was it just a look, or was there something more? Jiten strained against gravity, stretching as far as he could. Still no luck. Jiten clutched the pillow tighter, his baby knuckles whitening. He had to do this. He just had to. Jiten paused for a second, wiping sweat fro his face. He thought back to all those times he'd seen someone fly. They always started glowing suddenly. Jiten wondered if and how he could do that. His tail swished back and forth as he though. He tried to remember everything he'd heard in the spider building - everything he'd heard when people thought he was asleep. Ki - energy - reaching into you core -  
  
Slowly Jiten felt a spark with in him, making him tingle all over. He grinned as the tingling grew stronger and warmer. He looked over at the mirror and saw tiny white flames around him. His eyes widened in surprise, but the flames all but disappeared. Turning away from the mirror, he reached down inside and thought hard about flying. Unlike most babies, he had patience. Slowly - ever so agonizingly slowly, his feet lifted from the ground. Jiten was turned completely inward, his breathing steady yet hard. Centimeter by centimeter he floated haltingly upward. As soon as he could reach over the bars he threw the pillow in and hauled himself over as quietly as possible. Jiten lay in bed, gasping and sweating from the incredible strain. He'd never felt this exhausted before. Yet in his exhaustion, he smiled. He'd flown! He'd actually flown! And now he was back in his crib with his head resting comfortable on the hard-earned pillow. He decided to practice flying in secret. No sense in letting everyone know. Then there'd be too many new rules. No, better all around if he didn't tell anyone yet. After deciding this, Jiten settled into a contented sleep.  
  
*****  
  
Goten looked out a window from the beginners' classroom. He'd set the kids to a few minutes of meditation, with Pecon making sure they stayed in line. Often when he wasn't training, Pecon would offer his help in everything - from assisting in classes to housework to babysitting Jiten. At first it was annoying, since Pecon already paid tuition and didn't need to earn his keep, but now it was commonplace. Maybe it made him feel more a part of a family.  
  
Goten smiled at the sight of Jiten playing in the backyard. Jiten was alone and didn't know he was being watched. That's when he truly showed his abilities. Around Goten and Jita, and anyone else, Jiten stumbled around awkwardly. Now that he was alone, though, the child was running, jumping, even flying a bit. He seemed to be shouting something. Fro a child of a little less than a year, he acted like a boy ready to go to preschool. Mom had worried a bit about that, but Vegeta had said that he was maturing as fast as any high-class Saiyan with royal blood. He was right on schedule for a Saiyan.  
  
Goten was definitely not worried about Jiten's maturity. It relieved him. It meant Jiten would get interesting a lot quicker. He wasn't even all that worried about Jiten's safety, like Mom. No, it wasn't that. It was - his manipulative nature. Jiten knew how to use his power over others too well, and he had no qualms over using any means to get what he wanted. He was . . . devious. Goten flinched at using such words to describe his own son, but he was more afraid of not facing the truth. Goten's insecurities were back in full swing as he thought about failing Jiten as a father. Should he be extremely strict, like his mother? Or should he be as easy- going as his father?  
  
Goten's eyes narrowed as his son started chasing around a butterfly, on ground and in air. He shouldn't have to find things out about his son by spying on him. It wasn't right. Jiten had to be taught honesty. He was capable and prone to great power and great violence, like all Saiyans. He was also prone darkness from his mother's side. He had to have some moral grounding, or else he'd run wild and end up hurting someone. For Goten, lying was among the highest of sins. It was because it was a type of betrayal. And Goten was NOT going to let his child remain a liar.  
  
At the sound of Pecon clearing his throat, Goten broke from his vigil. It was a bit past time and parents were waiting. Goten, despite his worries over his son, smiled proudly at his class. Not one of them had moved, even when they knew perfectly well it was time to leave. They were becoming more and more disciplined every day. After a few words of praise and a reminder to train, Goten dismissed the class. He smiled ruefully as the children shed their discipline to run shouting out to the parking lot. They didn't have to be perfect.  
  
"Sensei?"  
  
"Yes, Pecon," Goten responded. "What is it?"  
  
"When did you teach Jiten to fly?" Goten looked back out the window. "I didn't. Is Jita through with her last class?"  
  
Pecon accepted the abrupt change of topic. "Yes, sensei. Except for the extra training of my class, but she may not even come to that. We know what to do."  
  
"Good," Goten said under his breath. "Pecon, could you keep an eye out on Jiten for a while?"  
  
Pecon nodded and left the room, heading for the back yard. Goten nodded to himself as he saw Jiten stop flying immediately as Pecon arrived. Yup, he was hiding. And Goten was getting tired of his son lying to him. If Jiten matured that fast, he needed to stop being treated like a baby. If he acted like a three or four year old, he would be treated like a three or four year old. Goten needed to confront Jiten, but only with Jita. He needed to talk to her. Setting his teeth, he swept out of the room in search of Jita.  
  
*****  
  
Jita crawled out from the maze of circuitry, tiredly putting away her tools. Thankfully, the Briefs had fashioned the gravity machine from Saiyan technology, so Jita didn't have to bug Bulma every time is malfunctioned. She'd done enough shipboard maintenance to be comfortable with such technology. Actually, Vegeta didn't need Bulma to fix the gravity chamber most of the time. He just did it to irritate her.  
  
Jita stretched her muscles and rubbed her tired eyes. Boy, did she wish she could get some sleep. The voice just wouldn't leave her alone anymore. And when it wasn't the voice, it was Jiten. It was like the universe was out to torment her, and she couldn't say she didn't deserve it. As much as it killed her to admit, she deserved anything that came her way.  
  
Jita drug herself to her office, where Goten was waiting. She put away her toolbox and looked at him expectantly. He didn't come to her office often, and he looked worried. It took a lot to get Goten worried. "What is it?"  
  
Goten laughed slightly. "Actually, now that I think of it, I'm not sure . . ." He plunked down in the chair. "I guess . . . Jiten. I'm worried about Jiten."  
  
Jita sat on her desk in front of him. "A little more specific?"  
  
Goten looked up. "Did you know he could fly?"  
  
"What?" Jita's eyes went wide. "But I haven't taught him yet."  
  
"He learns form imitation better than either of us. He watched us, and now he can fly. He just won't tell us. That's what worries me."  
  
Jita rubbed her head. How could she not see? Was she so self-involved and involved in her students that she didn't even pay attention to her own son? He father had been like that. Too busy with the kingdom to pay attention to his own children, even his prized son Vegeta. And she hated her father. She panicked. She'd made Goten and Jiten her entire life, but she was neglecting them. How often did she speak to Goten nowadays, anyway? And did she really pay attention to Jiten enough? Apparently not, if she didn't even know he could fly.  
  
"He's been hiding a lot of things from us," Goten broke into her thoughts. "I don't know why. He can talk better than he does. He's better at moving around. He's more mature than he acts around us. It doesn't make sense."  
  
"He does it to manipulate us," Jita said quietly. "As long as he's a helpless baby, he can get us to do anything he wants."  
  
"But he doesn't gain much." Goten jumped out of the chair and paced the room. "He's lying to us, and he doesn't find anything wrong with it. I won't have my son as a liar. He's already prone to -" Goten stopped abruptly. A tense silence filled the room.  
  
Jita glared at him. "Prone to what?" she demanded in a think voice.  
  
Goten averted his eyes.  
  
"Prone to what?" Jita repeated, a little louder.  
  
"Nothing. I wasn't thinking," Goten replied quietly. His heart was pounding. He really hadn't meant to say anything, but it had always been in the back of his mind. The boy took after Jita so much. He could see so much of Jita, and Vegeta, in Jiten. He'd seen the same thing in Trunks. Just this . . . darkness. Like the blood of all the people Vegeta and Jita had killed had . . . stained them and their children.  
  
Jita was not fooled by his evasion. "What? Prone to lying? Prone to killing people? Prone to hell? Just like me? That's what you're thinking, isn't it? Just because of me and my family. Well, here's news flash. You don't exactly come from a line of saints. Don't forget - I knew your grandfather and I knew you uncle. They were killers a blood- thirsty as any. So you are the last person . . ."  
  
"Now wait a minute," Goten broke in angrily. "I didn't say any of that, and I didn't ask for a family history. I know you Saiyans used to be evil -"  
  
"And now I'm evil?!"  
  
"Well, what do you call killing whole planets of people?!"  
  
"I call it surviving! And at least I don't walk out on my family, or needlessly hate my father!"  
  
"At least I have a soul!"  
  
"Well, if you don't want a soulless wife, then leave! Get out of here! I'm sick of looking at you! And don't bother coming back!"  
  
The two stared at each other in shock and anger. They were shaking with rage and didn't care if most of the people in the gym heard every word. They were too hurt by the words and the fact that those words were coming out of the mouths of the people they loved and trusted. Without a word, before he could say anything else, Goten ran out of the room and blasted into the air with a burst of angry energy. If she wanted him to leave, he'd leave. He just couldn't stand to be around her for another second. How dare she bring up the stuff about his father? She then she put words in his mouth.  
  
Goten flew hard the whole way, cheeks burning with anger and hurt. He didn't realize he was heading to his old training spot until he got there. He plonked himself on the ground, face still twisted in fury. He'd stayed there before, and he could stay there again. Pulling himself up, he started training - hard. It was time to forget.  
  
*****  
  
Jita hugged Jiten close to her as they landed in front Goku and Chichi's house. Jiten immediately brightened and ran into the house, screaming for Grandma and Grandpa. Jita solemnly followed him in. He'd been crying. He'd heard the fight. Jita shuddered at the thought. He'd actually heard all that. And he knew his daddy was gone for now. He was gone . . .  
  
Goku had already picked up Jiten and was playing with him, making the giggling boy into an airplane. Chichi was smiling at the two, but instantly sobered when she saw the look on Jita's face. Something was wrong - she knew it. But she knew Jita wouldn't say a thing with "Kakarrot" around. "Goku, why don't you take Jiten into the woods and play?"  
  
The oblivious Goku grinned at the idea. "Sure! There's a newborn dinosaur I want to show Jiten."  
  
Jiten grinned fiercely. "A dinosaur!" he yelled, pumping his tiny fist in the air. In the blink of an eye, the two were gone.  
  
"Now," Chichi said matter-of-factly, "there's some tea ready, and you're going to tell me what's wrong."  
  
"What makes you think anything's wrong?" Jita said bitterly.  
  
"Jita," Chichi said warningly. "You came here for a reason."  
  
Jita sat at the table while Chichi poured the tea. Jita sipped some of the steaming liquid, and the hot fluid soothed her churning stomach somewhat. But she was still angry. And hurt. And ashamed. Her hands shook as she set the cup down, and Chichi reached out to steady the cup and keep it from spilling. Jita took a shuddering breath. "Goten . . . and I . . ."  
  
Chichi gave Jita a knowing glance. "You had a fight, didn't you?"  
  
Jita only looked down, not wanting to meet the woman's eyes. "It was more than a fight. You should have heard him. He . . ."  
  
Chichi folded her hands in front of her. "Tell me from the beginning."  
  
Jita fought with the details in her head. How had it started? Jiten . . .  
  
"Goten came to me to talk about Jiten. He'd found out the baby was able to fly, and he was worried about Jiten hiding things from us and lying to us. I was worried too, but then Goten goes off on this tirade about Jiten being prone to lying and evil in general because of me and my family and then he mentioned some very private secret things about my past and I told him to get out and he did."  
  
Chichi listened to this outpouring, at a loss as to what to believe. She knew these stories were always so one-sided. Fights between married couples always were. She had realized this about her own marriage - that neither she not Goku was always in the wrong or the right. And not only her. She and Bulma had become really good friends after Goku had died, and she'd heard enough of Bulma and Vegeta's stormy relationship, and it was always so subjective. Chichi now placed herself in the precarious situation of reassuring Jita without bashing Goten, her own son. Chichi swirled her tea, choosing her words carefully. "What exactly did he say to you?"  
  
Jita kept herself from shattering her cup. "I just told you. I can't remember the exact words or anything."  
  
"What did you say to him?" Chichi continued patiently.  
  
"I . . . oh, Kami . . ." Jita trailed off, growing paler.  
  
"What?" Chichi prompted.  
  
"I . . . I brought up the whole thing with him and Kakarrot. No wonder he stormed out. No wonder he said what he did." Jita buried her face in her arms. "I was just so angry. I knew what he was thinking." Jita raised her head to look in Chichi's eyes. "He thinks that I'm evil. He thinks that Jiten will be evil because of me."  
  
Chichi winced. Goten would probably not say it in such blunt terms, but it sounded like something he would think. And there was a reason. "Jita," she cleared her throat. "You mustn't blame him entirely for thinking those things."  
  
Jita's eyes flashed. "And why not?"  
  
Chichi stared straight into Jita's eyes, not flinching from the truth. "Because it's my fault."  
  
Jita frowned in puzzlement. "I'm not sure what you mean."  
  
Chichi sighed deeply. "You must forgive my prejudice. At the time, when Goten was growing up, I didn't have a very high opinion of Saiyans. I must admit, I especially didn't like Vegeta. I was used to him being the enemy, and I wasn't there when he was forced to work on Goku's side. All I knew is he had tried to kill so many of my loved ones and I couldn't see any beyond that. I think I passed it on to Goten. I tried to keep him from seeing Trunks, because I thought 'like father like son.' I didn't want Goten turning out like that." Chichi laughed quietly. "Couldn't keep those two apart though. I was a fool to try. But I did try. And some of that is in Goten, and I'm sorry."  
  
Jita was staring forward with that look of utter intensity that so hurt and yet so calm, like she was used to being hurt and didn't really understand anything else. But she did understand other things. She had a family, and husband and a son. A husband who loved her, however foolish he could be at times. And a son . . . "oh, Kami," she repeated in a whisper.  
  
"What."  
  
Jita cursed herself. "Jiten heard the whole thing . . . I'm so selfish . . . I promised myself he'd have a good home life . . . I promised . . ."  
  
Chichi's face softened. "I'm sure he's fine. Children are more resilient than we think. And so are adults. Just give it a little more time, and you can have another talk with Goten. You're not going to hate each other forever, no matter how much it seems like that now."  
  
Jita smirked. "I suppose you're right, as usual, Chichi." She downed the last cold dregs of her tea, only to have Chichi fill her another.  
  
"Now, tell me," Chichi said briskly, trying to make things a little more upbeat. "What is this about Jiten?"  
  
*****  
  
"There it is," Goku said quietly into Jiten's ear. They were hiding behind some dense undergrowth and they could just see the tiny dinosaur creeling for food. The remains of the shells were long gone, but the baby looked freshly hatched anyway.  
  
Jiten squirmed in delight. Grandpa always had the coolest things to do. He wanted to run up to the baby dino and pet it, but Goku had a firm restraining hand on his shoulder. "Can't we feed it?" Jiten said plaintively. "It's hungry."  
  
Goku smiled down at the boy. "Nah. We can't do that. Hear it? It's calling for its mother. I've seen her over the past few days. Don't worry, she'll come. But she doesn't want anybody to mess with her baby, so we'll just watch."  
  
The two watched the baby until the mother came, bringing the baby a fresh kill to feast upon. They watched the baby tear into the meat for a little while, and then left the mother and child in peace. They started walking along a little stream, throwing rocks and sticks into the water occasionally.  
  
"Grandpa?" Jiten asked. "Does the mommy dino and the daddy dino ever fight?"  
  
Goku gave Jiten a confused look. "Why do you ask that?"  
  
Jiten shrugged. "I dunno. Do you and Grandma ever fight?"  
  
Goku stopped and squatted down so he could be eye level with Jiten. "Sometimes. Not as much now. Why?"  
  
Jiten plopped down cross-legged and pouted. "Mommy and daddy had a fight and they said really mean things and then daddy flew away." Jiten looked down. "I think they were fighting because of me. I think daddy's mad at me."  
  
Goku laughed and put his arm around Jiten. "Mommies and daddies get mad sometimes, but it doesn't mean they don't love you."  
  
Jiten regarded him with an unbelieving expression.  
  
Goku paused for a second and thought. "It's like . . . do you remember last week when you broke the toy train you'd been bugging mommy and daddy for?"  
  
Jiten scowled and blushed at the remembered bit of trouble. "I 'member."  
  
"And you couldn't play with any of your toys for two days?"  
  
Jiten nodded in shame. He hated talking about when he got in trouble.  
  
"Were you mad at mommy and daddy?"  
  
Jiten looked at his grandpa warily. He wasn't sure how to answer that. After a few minutes, Jiten nodded slowly, deciding that grandpa wasn't a snitch.  
  
"So you didn't love them?"  
  
Jiten eyes widened. "Of course I love them. I was just mad, but it wasn't a big deal."  
  
Goku smiled as he saw realization dawning on the child's face. "So daddy'll come back." Jiten said, nodding sharply. "Hey, Grandpa! Let's go swimming!"  
  
Goku laughed at the quick change of mood and raced Jiten to the water.  
  
*****  
  
Vegeta touched down on the soft earth. The sun had set and the stars were beginning to come out. The moon was full, but Vegeta knew he'd be able to sense it even if he couldn't see it. He glanced around the area and found what he was looking for. A campfire.  
  
Vegeta walked the short distance to the orange light and looked down at the warrior lying beside it. He grunted disdainfully and crossed his arms. "Are you going to stay here all night?"  
  
"Go away, Vegeta," came the quiet reply.  
  
Normally Vegeta would have a sharp retort or maybe a more tactile attack to respond to such impudence. But that would just get him side-tracked, and he didn't come here for himself. He came here for Jita, and Jiten. "I'm not going to go away. Even if I did, your idiot father would probably come looking for you. Do you want that?"  
  
Goten muffled a curse and looked away from hid brother-in-law, who merely shook his head. "You think you're the only one who's ever had a fight with his woman?"  
  
"I can't go back now," Goten said bitterly. "Those things I said to her. Those things she said to me . . . You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Oh, wouldn't I," Vegeta replied laughingly. "And you've never heard Bulma and I argue?"  
  
Goten bit his lip. He'd almost forgotten who he was speaking to.  
  
"Besides," Vegeta continued casually, "I know what was said."  
  
Goten looked at him in confusion. "How could you . . . You were there?!"  
  
Vegeta's face twitched. "I wasn't eavesdropping, if that's what you're thinking. My gravity room is not being very reliable lately, so I was using one in your dojo. After the fight . . . I figured I'd leave you two alone."  
  
"Why aren't you doing that now," Goten replied bitterly.  
  
"I don't know," Vegeta said ironically. "It's none of my business. It's not like you're family or anything. It's not like you're married to my sister. It's not like I care about how this is affecting Jiten."  
  
Goten looked up at him, halfway convinced. He'd promised Vegeta he'd take care of Jita, and he wasn't doing it. And he was also screwing Jiten over in the process.  
  
Vegeta regarded his expression of indecision. He decided to play his trump. "Tell me, Goten. Do you really want your son to hate you as much as you hated Kakarrot?"  
  
Goten's eyes went wide. He'd said it. That was Goten's one greatest fear. He realized he was doing just that - running off into the wilderness and leaving his family. He'd promised himself he would do that. He'd promised Jita he wouldn't do that. And no matter how much the words that afternoon had hurt, he knew he had to get back and make things right. If there was anything worse than lying, it was abandoning one's family. Goten rose from the ground swiftly and doused the fire.  
  
The moon provided enough light to fly home by. Vegeta flew with Goten as far as he could, making sure Goten actually made it all the way home. Before he left Goten to go to Capsule Corp, he faced the young husband and father. "Jiten's over at Kakarrot's. I'm not going to be around every time. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and take care of that family."  
  
Goten nodded meekly, knowing he deserved the harsh words. Watching the older man leave, he strengthened his resolve and flew down to the house. The place was completely deserted except for Jita. Every student living there had gone out, either at Jita's behest or just to avoid her had temper. Either way, Goten was grateful. Other people had heard enough of their personal life.  
  
Goten had expected to get attacked when he walked in the house. He was surprised, though, when he found Jita lounging on the couch, reading something that looked thick and old enough to be thoroughly over Goten's head. She was just sitting there, the fury he had seen on her face not too many hours completely gone from her visage. He didn't know whether to be relieved or worried. He sat on the edge of the chair near the couch.  
  
Slowly Jita put her book down. "I was wondering when you'd be here."  
  
Goten cleared his throat. "Waiting for me?"  
  
Jita looked into his eyes with that same intense look. "What are we going to do?"  
  
Goten looked away from her gaze. "I'm sorry," he said in a whisper.  
  
Jita put a hand on his chin and gently pulled his eyes back to hers. "We didn't really mean anything of what we said. I was . . . rather defensive."  
  
That was as close as Jita was going to come to apologizing and outwardly admitting she was wrong. But it was enough. The two smiled at each other. They knew things were far from being perfect, but they also knew they had each other. "Let's try to not fight anymore. Jiten must have heard it," Goten added.  
  
"Ah, yes," Jita sighed. "Jiten. I've been talking with you mother, and she gave me some advice."  
  
Goten half-smiled. "Mom's famous advice. What strategy did she say?"  
  
Jita shook her head. "It's unbelievably simple. I kicked myself when I didn't think about it before. You know how Jiten is lying to us to manipulate us?"  
  
Goten nodded.  
  
Jita leaned forward. "We stop letting him."  
  
Goten stared at her dumbly. It WAS simple. It was the type of thing he would automatically do to one of his students, but he hadn't even thought about it for his son. He'd been fooled by Jiten's age, still expecting him to be just like a human child. But he wasn't. He was a Saiyan royal, and needed to be treated as such. "Do we confront him about being able to fly?"  
  
Jita shook her head. "No. No confrontations. Jiten would react badly to it. We just stop carrying him around so much. And we'll start teaching him how to fly. I just don't want to send the message that learning on your own is a bad thing. I'm rather impressed that he was able to learn how to fly all by himself. I sure wasn't able to."  
  
Goten laughed. "Me neither. I was going Super Saiyan before I was able to fly. I didn't learn until Gohan had time enough to teach me."  
  
Jita nodded. "And we start him training. I was completely shocked when your mother suggested this, but . . ."  
  
"I wouldn't be so shocked. I was pretty young when Mom started training me. Not a year old or anything, but still pretty young. Maybe she just wanted me to be able to defend myself against Trunks."  
  
"Well, this'll be mostly for the discipline. And to channel some of his energy. We can teach him just about anything through fighting."  
  
"But we won't put him in any of the classes," Goten added. "He's too powerful already for the youngest classes. We'll start training as a family, and including him."  
  
"Starting tomorrow," Jita concluded. "Now, why don't we go to bed?"  
  
Goten grinned at the inflection in her voice and the light in her eyes. How could he ever even consider giving her up?  
  
-----  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: aqua-illusion (I personally think the whole "compiling Saiyan culture" thing would be useful, but it WOULD be a lot of work. I had an idea to compile the many different character interpretations that are out there, but it would take too much time that I don't have, as shown by the gaps in my updates. Maybe if you set up a type of forum and asked authors to send in their ideas and theories. Whatever.), Dark Wolf (hehe. I though Gonad was pretty great myself. My boyfriend suggested calling Jiten "Goat". Don't ask. But you're taking your own sweet time getting a chapter out on "A Saiyan's Worth". And with a cliffie too. Shame on you. Ah, who am I kidding? I'm the last one to scold people for update gaps. I'm just selfish and want to know what happens next.), Omega (Thanks for the compliment!), tim333 (I know, I know. I'm rushing again. There's so much stuff I would like to do, but I'm trying to limit myself. It WOULD have been funny to see Jita being all pregnant, but I wasn't sure if I could write it realistically, having never been pregnant or never been around a pregnant woman, since I'm an only child. I think I'm able to get away with a little bit with Jiten since he's more alien than any of the children we see on DBZ. Since Vegeta was so powerful in the anime at age five, it's not too much of a stretch to show Saiyan babies maturing at hyper-speed, as I've shown in this chapter.), and Ssjgoddeschico. Thank you all!  
  
On a side note, I've estimated about three more chapters of transition for the reason that I want Jiten to be a little older when the action really starts. So bear with me. 


	33. Drawing Near

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, or Dragonball for that matter. Or any other cultural references I happen to make.  
  
Author's Notes: Well, this was a challenge to get started. But once I got started it flowed pretty well. If you don't understand some of the references, I'll explain them at the end of the chapter. Probably my first foot-noted chapter ever. Footnotes are numbers in parentheses. Enjoy!  
  
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Chapter 32: Drawing Near  
  
-----  
  
*Crinkle-crinkle*  
  
The paper flew through the air in a perfect arc. It would have landed directly in the litter basket, but the small container was so full that the paper bounced off the top and landed amid the growing pile of small paper basketballs surrounding the basket. Jiten didn't notice. He probably wouldn't notice until his mother would "gently" remind him to keep his room a bit neater. But for now he was frustrated. He pulled out another sheet of paper and started drawing tentative lines. Surrounding him were sheets filled with sketches, some just partial drawings and some fully finished and colored. At the moment he was focusing on one sheet covered with small drawings of a mass of odd angles. "Darn it," he muttered to himself, "I can't get it right."  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be training?"  
  
The four-year-old looked up at the older mirror-image of himself. "Hi, Uncle Vegeta. Mommy gave me a break for a little bit."  
  
Vegeta regarded the mess around him. "You may not get any more breaks once your mother sees this place," he remarked with a smirk.  
  
Jiten smirked back and then went back to his drawing. 'You don't know that half of it,' he thought with smug satisfaction.  
  
Vegeta looked over the boy's shoulder at his work. His eyes widened in surprise. In the middle of the page was himself and Goku, standing some distance apart and joining ki-blasts. Many insets were drawn around the picture showing Goku and Vegeta in different stages of a fight, some Super and some not. Jiten was currently working on a small picture of non-Super Goku, making lines and rub marks around the head. "Why are you drawing that?"  
  
Jiten stuck his tongue out in the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. "I like to watch you and Granpa fight. I want to draw it, but Granpa's hair is hard to draw," he complained. "Yours is easy because I can just go by mine, but his is weirder."  
  
"You're lucky that you didn't get that hair. Your father had hair just like his when he was little."  
  
Jiten wrinkled his nose and laughed. "Is my hair gonna change when I get older?"  
  
Vegeta looked over his nephew. He was glad that the boy looked so much like him. He'd never said it, but it had been a little disappointing when his children had taken after their mother so much. Especially when they seemed to take all recessive genes. It didn't really make sense. 'Must be some sort of genetic manipulation in the Briefs family. Wouldn't surprise me a bit.' "I hope not," he voiced aloud. "Here. Let me."  
  
Jiten gave the pencil to Vegeta, who was studying the drawing intently where the boy was having problems. He grabbed a scrap sheet of paper, and quickly and precisely he drew the form of Goku's head in the proper angle for the drawing, barely even picking up the pencil to sketch the wild angles. "Is that what you're attempting?"  
  
Jiten studied it intently. "Yeah! That's perfect! Hey, I didn't know you could draw."  
  
Vegeta gave him a half-serious stern look. "As far as it concerns anyone else, I can't."  
  
"Sure!" Jiten grinned. He turned his attention back to the drawing, frowned slightly, and drew in the wild locks. He drew back and surveyed his work with satisfaction, seeming to declare perfection. Vegeta nodded in approval. Then Jiten turned his attention back to Vegeta's drawing. "You forgot to give him a face, Uncle Vegeta."  
  
Vegeta accepted the pencil again and, with a growing smirk, drew the face on. It was the same look Goku got whenever he didn't understand something, a sort of blank confusion. Vegeta then steadied Jiten in his chair when his laughter almost made him fall to the floor. Vegeta emitted a small chuckle, debating on whether or not to tell Jiten that he sometimes got the exact same look.  
  
"JITEN!!"  
  
Jiten's head snapped up in panic. He'd been so preoccupied with drawing that he'd forgotten to monitor where his mother was. His stomach began to knot as Jita's form appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and mouth scowling. He looked down sheepishly, putting down his pencil. Then he looked up, making his eyes as wide as possible and said as innocently as possible, "Yes, Mommy?"  
  
Jita chuckled under her breath. "Don't you 'yes, Mommy' me. I told you an hour ago to clean up your room and then do some private training. Why is your gravity room turned on? You're not in there."  
  
Jiten sputtered for an explanation. "I - I -" He clammed up, mind racing for any excuse. It was no good. He was caught.  
  
"Well," Jita continued, "if you're not going to answer me, I'll tell you. You decided to trick me into thinking you were in the gravity room and not actually go in there."  
  
"I was gonna go in there. . ." Jiten said softly.  
  
"What did you say?" Jita said sharply.  
  
Jiten jumped. "I . . . I . . . was gonna go in there . . ."  
  
"Of course you were," Jita interrupted. "Just in time for me to check up on you. Your timing was a little off. You remember what I said would happen the next time you pulled this."  
  
Jiten's heart began to thump faster as he edged away. He looked up to his Uncle Vegeta, who was only giving a scowl that mirrored his mother's. Jiten drew back further. "No. Mommy, please. I promise . . ."  
  
Before Jiten knew it, he was looking at bed sheets. Jita had taken him over her knee faster than Jiten could even think. He squirmed and whined, but his mother's hold on him was firm and unyielding. By the time it was over, his face was a red mess of tears. When Jita set him upright in front of her, Jiten looked away from her. He was shaking in pain, anger, and embarrassment. Not only had his mother spanked Jiten, she'd done it in front of Uncle Vegeta. Of all the people in the world, Jiten hated being embarrassed in front of Vegeta the worst.  
  
Jita held the boy upright until his broken sobs gave way to sniffles. Wincing at the mess on his face, she grabbed a couple of tissues and wiped him up. She pulled his face up by his chin, but he jerked his head out of her grasp. "Look at me," she demanded softly.  
  
Jiten pretended like he didn't hear her.  
  
"Look at me," Jita repeated, her tone refusing to be ignored.  
  
Jiten's eyes slowly rose to meet his mother's. Jita was relieved that the look in his eyes was more of shame and less of defiance. "I want to be able to trust you, Jiten," she began. "When you lie to me, you show that you can't be trusted. I trust you with going to your gravity room alone. That's a lot of trust. What if someone walked in your gravity room without realizing it was on? If they weren't strong enough, it could hurt them. And you would be responsible. So that's why I spanked you. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes Mommy," Jiten said in a soft broken voice.  
  
"Good. Now, I want you to go to your gravity room and meditate for an hour. And this time you won't know when I'll be checking up on you."  
  
Jiten's eyes widened. Usually he would only meditate for fifteen minutes at a time. A whole hour?! And he wasn't allowed to levitate, just in case his thoughts wandered and he fell. So he would have to sit on his sore bottom for a full hour. Jiten scowled and ran out of the room. Jita watched out the window, satisfied when he ran into the dojo. Then she slumped back on the bed and rubbed her temples.  
  
"I was not aware," Vegeta began, "that he was supposed to be training. I thought he enjoyed training."  
  
Jita looked up and smirked tiredly. "He likes seeing what he can get away with a lot better. At least, that's the only explanation I can come up with. What was he doing, anyway?"  
  
Vegeta motioned toward the stack of drawings. Jita shook her head and walked over to them. "He does that day and night, when he's not finding some way to get into trouble. There's so many pictures posted on these walls, I don't even remember the wallpaper Chichi put in this room." She looked at Vegeta's tiny drawing, recognizing it as not her son's style. She smirked up at Vegeta, who merely raised an eyebrow, as if challenging her to mention anything. She smirked wider and began to straighten up Jiten's desk. She swore to herself that she would never do the boy's work for him, but she just started before she realized what she was doing. 'Hell if I'm going to clean the rest of his room. He's doing that tonight.'  
  
"Why did you ask me to come over, child?" Vegeta broke into her thoughts.  
  
Jita winced at the moniker, but let it slide. "Goten if out with Kakarrot, and I need someone to watch Jiten for a while."  
  
Vegeta's eyes widened. "So I'm a baby-sitter now. Doesn't Chichi usually do that?"  
  
"Yes, but Chichi's getting older. You know how quickly humans age. I don't see how they can stand to have such short life-spans."  
  
Vegeta snorted. "She's in her late 50s, if anything. That's hardly infirm, even for human standards. My woman's older. Besides, Kakarrot's woman is far from helpless."  
  
Jita sighed impatiently. "The years have been kinder to Bulma. And that was just an excuse. I want you, and no one else, to watch Jiten because his strength is surpassing his ability to control it. You're strong enough and strict enough to keep him in line and keep him from hurting himself and anyone else. That's why I trust you. Besides, he won't test you like he does the rest of us."  
  
Jita frowned, tired and aggravated at her son. All he ever did was test her. Jita and Goten had to stay on him all the time. Vegeta looked amusedly at her weary eyes, a silent attest to her never-ending responsibility. "You were no better as a child."  
  
Jita looked at him in surprise, but then laughed softly. "Do you remember when I gave my bodyguards the slip? Led them on a merry chase around the palace."  
  
Vegeta's smile widened slightly at the memory. "Ran straight into father. And attacked him when he couldn't figure out who you were. Then bugged me everyday for training."  
  
"Then I got so strong that I kept accidentally knocking down walls." Then Jita's eyes widened. "You don't suppose he'll start doing that, do you? No wonder Saiyans sent their children off-planet."  
  
Vegeta laughed in assent. "Where are you going, anyway?"  
  
Jita shifted uncomfortably at the question. "I've - ah - got an appointment to get to. It may take a while, and I didn't want Jiten to be left alone. Listen, if I'm not back here by this evening, go ahead and take him to Capsule Corp with you."  
  
Jita left before Vegeta could get another word in. Used to his sister's secretive ways, he merely shrugged his shoulders. He looked back at the drawing of him and Kakarrot fighting, noting with satisfaction that the better-looking pictures were ones where Vegeta had the advantage. He put down the picture and headed for the dojo.  
  
Vegeta looked through a window to the little boy. He was doing less meditating and a lot more pouting. Vegeta shook his head. Trunks had been the same way a lot of times. Vegeta knew Jiten probably didn't want to see him at the time, so he just watched. Vegeta also checked the outside controls of the room. He laughed at all that talk about trusting Jiten with his own gravity room. It was the only gravity room with padding on the floors, decorations on the walls, and a gravity generator that couldn't surpass 10 Gs. That room, too, was covered with Jiten's drawing, all protected behind study glass cases on the walls.  
  
Suddenly, Jiten looked up at the window, finally coming out of his self- pity enough to sense Vegeta on the other side of the wall. Jiten looked away, still ashamed that he had been caught and punished in front of his stern uncle.  
  
Realizing he probably couldn't just watch anymore, Vegeta turned off the gravity and opened the door. At Jiten's puzzled and expectant expression, Vegeta closed the door, turned back on the gravity, and sat beside the boy to meditate.  
  
Jiten smiled. He had been worried that Uncle Vegeta wouldn't like him any more. Finally able to ignore the hard floor with Vegeta's comforting presence, Jiten slipped into meditation.  
  
*****  
  
Jita descended a bit in her flight as the towns gave way to trees and farmland. In the more rustic areas dwelt people with longer memories less excitable personalities. It was a known fact that you could fly lower in the countryside because the common people wouldn't be thrown into a panic at the sight of flying people. She had often wondered about that phenomenon, until Eighteen had explained it to her, from the explanation she had received from Krillen. These people had actually kept up with Goku. They were the ones who most remember being terrorized by the Red Ribbon Army. As such, they remembered the one who had destroyed the Red Ribbon Army. They had kept up with Goku's accomplishments all these years, and knew that flying people were, for the most part, saviors rather than enemies. Jita was surprised at how public Goku's victories over the Red Ribbon Army and the various Piccolos were, as well as his performance at the Budoukai. She was surprised because you never heard about those. It was always Satan who was the Earth's savior. Jita shook her head. It was really sad when the country bumpkins had more sense than the more educated city people. (1)  
  
She put up a bit more speed. The farmland and trees quickly gave way to a desert. She knew that somewhere in the same desert was Kami's Lookout, but that wasn't where she was going. She consulted the map Krillen had found for her to orient herself. Of course, she'd made sure Krillen wouldn't tell anyone what she was up to. Krillen didn't even know the reason behind her visit. She wasn't even all that sure about the reason. It was just one source she had not taken advantage of.  
  
After half an hour of searching, Jita found where she was looking for. It was a cross-shaped complex from the air with interconnecting buildings and an arena out back. But Jita had heard the stories, and knew there was far more to this place. Out front a long line of various humans and sentient animals had formed - some very well dressed and others looking tougher than average earth-dwellers. She saw some in bandages limping out of the gate house. Jita smiled sardonically. She wondered what the reaction to her would be. She decided not to make any trouble and descended to the back of the line.  
  
Several turned around to regard this girl who had dropped from the sky. Some whispers started, but Jita ignored them. She knew that if her dojo was successful, there would be more flying people on Earth and in time the novelty would die down. That was as it should be.  
  
"Excuse me, miss. Are you Son Jita?"  
  
Turned to the voice, and her eyes went a bit wider as she realized she was talking to the stereotypical ghost with a flat pointed hat. She was sure she'd seen Jiten watching some cartoons with similar figures. She quickly got over her surprise. She knew that the ghost probably got sick of people staring at him just as much as she got sick of the whole "flying people" panic. "Yes," she replied. "How could you know who I am, though?"  
  
The ghost smiled. "Uranai Baba is expecting you. She did not think you would take kindly to waiting in a line, so she asked that you come right in." (2)  
  
Jita walked in, and watched in interest as the ghost began telling people that the fortune-teller couldn't see them that day. Did Baba expect something to happen? Jita walked through the gate house and the courtyard to the central building. She didn't see anyone around. "Hello? Urenai Baba?" (3)  
  
"That's Uranai Baba!" came a raspy voice from a corner. A tiny dumpy pink- haired witch on a crystal ball floated up to her, scowling at the unintended insult.  
  
Jita laughed at her own mistake. "I can't get the proper accent sometimes. Pardon me."  
  
Baba regarded her carefully. "You're not like your brother at all," she declared.  
  
Jita crossed her arms. "You're the first person to ever tell me that. Though, from what I hear, you're not like your brother either."  
  
Baba got a wistful look in her eyes. "I haven't visited that old bum for a while now. I'm glad you never met him. You'd hate him."  
  
"From what I've heard, I probably would. Didn't he die of a heart attack?"  
  
Baba shook her head. "No heart attack could down Roshi. He was three hundred and some years old. He decided to die. He could use magic to give him infinite life, but he decided that the world didn't need the Turtle Master anymore. He would feel even more so now that the Spider Masters have established themselves," Baba said with a glint in her eyes.  
  
Jita smiled. The "Spider Master" was a name she and Goten had finally taken for themselves. They wanted to distance themselves from the modern, usually know-nothing dojos of the modern era and go back to a more traditional style of teaching. All of the traditional senseis had taken titles that had invoked the image of animals. The Turtle Master, the Crane Master, the Cat Master (4) . . . probably a few others, but they were never as famous. And they each chose the title for imitating an aspect of the animal. Roshi's training was all about endurance and strength, and involved the use of heavy turtle shells. Korin had taught many warriors stealth and speed, as well as being a cat himself. And the Crane Master had probably taken his name because he taught people how to fly. From what Jita had heard, that had once been a pretty radical idea. All of these masters had many reasons to take their names, and so did Jita and Goten. Jita had gotten used to calling their dojo the "spider building," using Jiten's nickname for the place. After her students had done so well in the Tenkaichi Budoukai, the martial arts world was clambering for a name for this successful dojo that challenged the Satan school's monopoly on the tournament. After studying the style Jita was teaching, and hearing a few times people call the dojo the spider building, the nickname was chosen and stuck. The spider fighting style was known for speed and unpredictability, almost spider-like in movement. For two years Goten and Jita had been known as the Spider Masters, even changing their symbol to suit the new titles. They didn't mind, either. Goten found it sort of funny, especially since the so-called martial arts experts of the Budoukai couldn't tell that he had been taught by his mother and father, both coming from the turtle school tradition.  
  
"But you know what," Baba continued, "I think is the real reason Roshi decided to die?"  
  
Jita cocked her head in curiosity and nodded the suddenly serious witch to continue.  
  
"It was because Eighteen got rid of his entire collection of porn."  
  
Jita stared at the grinning witch and face-faulted. As soon as she recovered, she regarded the old witch with an amused expression. "You seem to be rather nonchalant about the passing of your brother."  
  
Baba laughed. "Death is not so final, and the afterlife is not so bad that I have to be sad about his death." Then the old woman's expression changed as she realized who she was talking to.  
  
Jita waved off any apologies or pity that may have been forthcoming. "I suppose you know that's why I came to see you. You seem to know everything."  
  
Baba floated a little higher. "I don't know everything. Just a lot more than most people because I'm half a millennium old. But if anyone asks you," she added, "I'm not a day over two hundred."  
  
Baba scrutinized the Saiyan princess even closer. "You really aren't like your brother at all. Or are you just being sociable with me to humor me so I'll be more willing to help you?"  
  
"You know," Jita said, crossing her arms, "I really don't like mind- readers."  
  
"Me neither. I get confused with them all the time. Now," Baba said abruptly, "let's get down to business, shall we?"  
  
Jita nodded. "Let's. I don't have the ten million zeni, so I guess I'll have to fight your warriors? Where are they?" Jita glanced in various directions.  
  
"Ah - well - no one wanted to fight you, so no fight necessary. Besides," Baba said under her breath, "I wouldn't charge you anyway. This is serious enough."  
  
Jita followed Uranai Baba into a small unobtrusive room to the side. Jita hadn't noticed it before, despite her trained ability to glance at a place and learn every detail about it. Jita had the feeling that she could have looked directly at the door and not even know that it was there if Baba had not led her to it. Just like if Baba had not responded to her, then Jita felt she would not have been able to see the old witch. The entire building seemed to be enshrouded by magic. It annoyed Jita, but she kept her feelings to herself. She was there for a purpose, after all.  
  
Jita walked into the room without any preconceived notions, but she was definitely not expecting what she found. The room was set up like a gypsy fortune-teller's booth you'd find in a movie. Many unscented candles were all around, yet the air was perfume by incense of a scent that Jita couldn't quite place. Various magical paraphernalia littered the many shelves on the walls, all from different traditions around the world, from quartz to voodoo dolls to totem polls. Jita smirked when she saw a green doll with antennae. She was busy trying to decide if the doll was meant to represent Piccolo or Dende when Baba cut into her thoughts.  
  
"Just sit on one of the cushions at the table while I'm getting ready."  
  
Jita sat at the low table as Baba flitted around the room, grabbing various things from hidden drawers and cabinets. It seemed that all the things on the shelves were just decorations prompted by the old woman's strange sense of humor, like her Halloween witch's outfit. Baba then dumped all the articles on the table, mostly composed of various colored crystals that seemed to be not native to Earth or anyplace in the corporeal dimension, although Jita had seen some similar during her time in Hell. Baba took a quick inventory of her collection, nodded in satisfaction, and scrambled off her crystal ball to sit on a cushion opposite of Jita. The ball floated into the central position of the table. Baba frowned and moved the ball more to the side of the table so that she and Jita could see each other.  
  
"Let me warn you," Baba started, "This has never been done before. No one has ever escaped the clutches of the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell."  
  
"But I am the first to be reincarnated by him," Jita reasoned.  
  
"And that's why I'm even attempting it. I just don't want you to get your hopes up."  
  
"Believe me when I tell you my hopes are far from up."  
  
Uranai Baba nodded sagely and began to deftly set up the crystals in some indistinguishable pattern. "I've been looking into your case on and off for some time now. Mostly because I was afraid that you were a harbinger of doom to earth when you first came. The hold he has on you is some sort of bond that I can barely see. It blends with ki, psychic, and magic in so complex a combination that you can't tell where one begins and another ends. I'm not sure how it can be broken, but I'm going to try a few things."  
  
The crystals were finally put into the pattern Baba wanted. They began to glow. Jita stared at them, but then began to fight against their entrancing effects. Baba nodded. "I see that you have a strong will. This may help us. I'm going to have to focus for about three hours. What you need to do in the meantime is go into that meditation that you warriors do all the time. That'll focus your ki and your mind, and maybe even what little magical ability you have. I'll let you know if you need to come back to reality. If the voice starts to bother you, just sing or something."  
  
"Sing?" Jita asked incredulously.  
  
Baba harrumphed in impatience. "Or do whatever you want. Recite a poem or something. Just make it something familiar that ties you to the corporeal universe and drowns out the voice."  
  
Jita wanted to leave the room right then, but she forced herself to stay. If there was just a chance . . . 'Right, then. Meditate.' She closed her eyes and powered up her ki a bit, forcing it all inside so as not to damage or completely destroy the room. Just before she completely withdrew inward, she heard the witch sing to herself, "I, I, I am Uranai Baba. Cute, cute Uranai Baba . . ." (5)  
  
Jita shook her head. The old witch really was a bit crazy. She just hoped Baba knew what she was doing.  
  
*****  
  
Goten added a little more kindling to the fire. Two fish of gargantuan proportions hung over the large fire. Usually one would have sufficed, but both he and his father seemed to have larger appetites that the other Saiyans. Yet another way they were alike.  
  
Goten sighed. Goku was now at the creek getting water, and Goten was a bit relieved to be alone. He had not chosen to take this camping trip with his father. But Goku had asked, and Jita had insisted. It was a little weird how Jita had kept insisting. It was as if she wanted him out of the way. 'Must just want to be alone. She complains about never being able to get her reading done. Jiten's probably at Mom's or Capsule Corp.'  
  
Goten wished he had thought to take Jiten along, but Jiten was on restriction for leaving his gravity room on, and then subsequently lying about it. So that, of course, meant no camping trip. It would have been great to have Jiten there, though.  
  
"Hey Goten. Don't you think the fish is done on that side?"  
  
Goten jumped at his father's voice and quickly turned the fish. Goten was starving. The two had already sparred and Goten was always hungriest after a spar with his dad. He grabbed a canteen of water to maybe appease his hunger a bit until the fish was done. He frowned. It didn't help much.  
  
Goku sat down cross-legged on the other side of the fire, rubbing his stomach. "Boy, I sure hope the fish gets done soon. Man, I'm tellin' ya. I could eat a whole octopus right now."  
  
Goten started up. "As if you could eat a whole . . . Wait, you haven't eaten a whole octopus before, have you?"  
  
Goku grinned. "Yup! It tried to eat me, so I fried it with a kamehameha and ate it." (6)  
  
Goten gulped. "That's . . . more than I ever wanted to know."  
  
"Say, Goten. How's Pan doing in your class?"  
  
Goten poked at the fire with a stick. "Jita would know more about that. But she's helping me with some of the younger classes, and she seems to be handling herself."  
  
"That's good," Goku replied.  
  
Goten looked down as the pause in conversation stretched into silence. He flexed his foot to keep it from going to sleep, and wracked his brain for something to say. Anything he thought of he'd already said or Goku wouldn't understand. He thought about talking shop, i.e. fighting, but dropped that idea, unsatisfied. That was all they ever talked about. That was all they ever did, too. They'd spar, say a few words, maybe eat together, and then leave. Goten had heard all the stories of his father, of his adventures before he was born, except for such jewels as the octopus story. And Goten didn't really want to know what Goku was doing in the Afterlife. It just reminded him of why he was so angry with his father when he was younger. But all that had changed.  
  
Goten pulled the fish from the fire. The two ate in silence, besides the occasion 'this is good' from Goku. Goten didn't understand it. It wasn't like he hated Goku anymore. Well, he'd always loved him, but Goten had never understood him. But it wasn't like that anymore. They'd reached an understanding years ago. In that spar . . .  
  
All they ever did was spar . . .  
  
'I wish Jiten was here. At least it wouldn't be so awkward. Heck, even Vegeta would make it less awkward here, and that's saying a lot.'  
  
Goten looked over at his father, who had finished eating and was now dozing off. The sunset cast the entire realm in an orange glow. Disgusted, mostly with himself, Goten turned his attention away from Goku and searched for the kis of his family. He found Jiten over at Capsule Corp. He grimaced. He hoped Vegeta didn't kill the kid. Then he started looking for Jita.  
  
Goten frowned at what he felt. Her ki was . . . focused. More focused than she even got it during an intense spar. Definitely more focused than in meditation. He pored deeper into the sense of her. She seemed calm, but her ki was getting stranger and stranger. He tried to figure out what was different about her sense. There were . . . wisps . . . around her ki. Barely perceptible shadows, but not really malevolent. Except for one. The sense of it grew stronger as he focused more. Could that be the voice? He realized that he couldn't figure out what was going on with her just by ki-sense, but he wasn't about to go to her. She could be jealous with her privacy, just as he could. He would respect that. If she wanted to tell him, she would.  
  
Goten slowly drifted to sleep, the feel of his wife's ki-sense following him into his dreams.  
  
*****  
  
"It's time."  
  
Jita barely registered the old woman's screechy voice. She was just in the middle of reciting the Saiyan Warrior's Pledge from memory for what seemed like the thousandth time. What amazed her was that Baba seemed to be right. As long as she kept it up, the voice was partially drowned out. Of course, it could also have been the magic thickly pervading the room, her mind, her entire body.  
  
'I pledge my loyalty to the king. / His might will rule me as I serve him. / I pledge my loyalty to the prince, / The future king of us all. / I pledge my loyalty to the Empire. / In its strength we will thrive. / I pledge my life to the Planet Vegeta, / The planet we took by might and by right. / I pledge my honor to my family, / To father, to mother, to mate, to child. / By the light of the full moon, / May the pride and strength of the Saiyans last forever.'  
  
Keeping the cant in the back of her mind, she opened her eyes. She didn't know what time she'd passed in meditation. It could have been hours, or even days. The room was windowless and dark, the only light coming through being the few candles still burning weakly and her ki's faint dull glow. In front of her was a slightly bedraggled Baba, and beside her was . . .  
  
Jita stared at the creature, for lack of any better ideas. She thought about attacking, but decided against it. He was obviously there at Baba's request, and therefore to help. He was short - more like miniscule - and reminded Jita of the dolls that Bra had decorating her room. He was pure white with two red spots on his cheeks, and was wearing some sort of traditional outfit. He had removed his hat, which was lying on the floor next to his feet, and a single long hair stuck from the top of his head. His expression was grave, but as he felt Jita's eyes on him, he looked up at her and gave a small smile.  
  
"Hi," he whispered. "I'm Chaotzu."  
  
"Jita," she replied quietly.  
  
Chaotzu's grin widened. "I know. Darjili told me all about you last time she visited home."  
  
Jita's eyes widened. "And you would know Darjili . . . how?"  
  
"I'm her father Tien's best friend. I've known Darjili since she was born. Doesn't she ever . . ."  
  
"Darjili doesn't really talk about home all that much."  
  
Chaotzu frowned. "Oh, yeah. Ever since Lunch passed away . . ." He trailed off.  
  
Jita thought back to her student of a few years. Darjili had never mentioned her mother had died. "When did this happen?"  
  
"Two years ago," came Chaotzu's reply. "It was her mental illness. That last year she didn't even need to sneeze to change personalities. She just kept switching back and forth. But I'm glad she got to see Darjili control both her personalities. She was real proud of her. Darjili said that you got her to control it. Thank you."  
  
Jita nodded. "I-"  
  
"The time for conversation will have to wait," Uranai Baba cut in. "I invited Chaotzu here to help out with the psychic element, since that's his specialty. I'll handle the magic, and I guess you, Jita, will have to handle the ki. I didn't think you'd want anyone else to know your secret."  
  
"Good guess, witch," Jita replied. Only her desperation to be free from her soul-bind kept her going. She really wanted to just fly out of that dark, incense-filled room, maybe even off that planet. The voice was starting to seep in, but she started the Warrior's Pledge as strong as ever. What had started as an awkward, half-gone memory seemed now to fill her entire mind. Seeing Baba and Chaotzu sink into concentration, Jita did the same. Jita gasped. Unlike the peaceful meditation of before, the world of her mind was a whirlwind of sight and sound, memory and power. And in the middle of it all was Jita - and the voice. The rest was only memory, and the familiar cant of the pledge.  
  
'I pledge my loyalty to the king. / His might will rule me as I serve him.'  
  
Jita was held back, her tiny arms flailing and struggling against the muscled arms of the Saiyan guards. All she could here was her father's voice. "Who is that child?"  
  
HE NEVER LOVED YOU. DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU.  
  
'I pledge my loyalty to the prince, / The future king of us all.'  
  
Jita lay helplessly on the ground, too many ribs broken from the first attack to get up. Vegeta was now completely Oozaru, towering over her small helpless form with angry red eyes. She screamed as a monstrous foot loomed over her, "Vegeta! No!!"  
  
THE SAME PRINCE - THE SAME BROTHER - WHO KILLED YOU? THE ONE YOU GAVE UP EVERYTHING TO KILL? WHEN DOES HE GET THE ETERNAL HELL HE DESERVES?  
  
'I pledge my loyalty to the Empire. / In its strength we will thrive.'  
  
King Vegeta was taller than Frieza, but the Ice-jin dictator towered over the Saiyan king. Jita burned in desperate hatred, for warriors were escorting Vegeta away.  
  
AND FRIEZA. THEY STOLE YOUR REVENGE AGAINST HIM. OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHAT HE DID?  
  
'I pledge my life to the Planet Vegeta, / The planet we took by might and by right.'  
  
Jita stared from her palace window, the giant red-orange energy ball fell inevitably to the planet. She could hear the death-screams of Saiyans touching the energy and dying. She screamed into the wind, and blacked out.  
  
WHAT GOOD IS YOUR SAIYAN PRIDE WITHOUT REVENGE? WHY DO YOU STAY WITH THE LAST OF THE SAIYANS WHEN THEY SURVIVED AND YOU DIED? YOU'RE NOT ONE OF THEM. YOU HAVE THE POWER TO KILL THEM. IT'S THE ONLY WAY.  
  
'I pledge my honor to my family, / To father, to mother, to mate, to child.  
  
"How can I accept her as my child when it sapped the last of the queen's strength just to birth that tailless freak girl?"  
  
"Now wait a minute," Goten broke in angrily. "I didn't say any of that, and I didn't ask for a family history. I know you Saiyans used to be evil -"  
  
Jita looked at her son, a defiant sneer set on his face, seeming to mock her discipline. "I don't have to do as you say," he said in his usually- sweet childish voice. Jita looked into his eyes, and could barely recognize her baby.  
  
YOU'VE CARRIED THE CURSE OF YOU FAMILY TO YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILD. YOU HAVE THIS FAMILY ON STOLEN TIME. ONCE YOU ARE GONE, THEY WILL BE GLAD. AS IF YOU WOULD SEE THEM IN HELL . . . WELL, MAYBE THE BOY . . .  
  
'By the light of the full moon, / May the pride and strength of the Saiyans last forever.'  
  
SAIYANS ARE DEAD AND DYING. HALF-BREEDS WILL NOT LAST FOREVER.  
  
Relics. And half-breeds. And memories. This was her life.  
  
Relics. And half-breeds. And memories. These were the ruins of the Saiyans.  
  
Relics were broken bones and dusty armor.  
  
Half-breeds with Saiyan blood thinning in each generation.  
  
Memories of pain and repression and purges and death - memories that faded in time and left a bitter taste.  
  
"No! I will not take revenge! I will take my soul!"  
  
IT IS MINE! YOU ARE MINE!!  
  
"No!! My family!!"  
  
Vegeta.  
  
Goten.  
  
Jiten.  
  
Chichi.  
  
Kakarrot.  
  
Goten.  
  
Jiten.  
  
Goten.  
  
Jiten.  
  
JITA!!!  
  
And suddenly, the voice stopped. Jita felt liberated as the grasp on her soul slowly slipped. Her mind was filled with her husband and child. This was what she was doing this for. And she was winning. The grasp was slipping. She was filled with such a calm - such a completeness she hadn't felt in so many years. She felt alive - truly alive. The felling went head to toe to fingertips. So why did she start to feel uneasy . . .?  
  
HEH-HEH-HEH  
  
"It's working!" Chaotzu squeaked out between gasps of air.  
  
"Shh," warned Baba.  
  
HEH-HEH-HEH  
  
Jita could actually see the bond now. The three-stringed coil of the bond that had trapped her soul - in ki, magic, and psyche. Only now, it was joined with a fourth, that slithered down the coil from her soul to her body - to the natural world. It was a sickly dark thread, and it was coming. It was so close. And she was unraveling the barrier . . .  
  
HEH-HEH-HEH  
  
"No!!!"  
  
Jita screamed out in defiance and desperation. She shot to her feet, and immediately the spell ended. Her ki fell, and every candle was snuffed out. The crystals that had been levitating above the table dropped, turning from an iridescent white to a murky grey. Chaotzu fell over, unconscious from the momentary overload. Uranai Baba merely stared up at Jita, shaking her head sadly.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jita."  
  
Jita looked dully at Baba, too drained and in shock to truly grasp what happened. "It's all right. Tell the psychic that I . . . appreciate what he tried to do for me."  
  
Baba nodded, for once not sure of what to say. So she tried for humor. "Maybe that'll teach you not to go to fortune-tellers and psychics."  
  
Jita gave a ghost of a smile, and opened the door. She was surprised when daylight blinded her. She hoped it was only the next day. Not bothering to glance behind her one last time, Jita took to the sky and slowly flew home.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Chaotzu pulled himself off the floor, rubbing his head in pain. He had never fallen out of practice with his psychic abilities, but this was far more complicated and strange than anything he'd ever attempted. He looked over at Baba in confusion.  
  
Baba straightened her pointy hat and pink hair, climbing back onto her waiting crystal ball. "I don't know."  
  
Chaotzu looked at her in surprise. You never heard those words coming out of Uranai Baba's mouth. More often than not, Baba knew the all of the past and present, and most of the future. She didn't charge ten million zeni a fortune as a sham. She was the real thing. It was unheard of for her to not know. Until now.  
  
But Baba vindicated herself a bit. "It was working. We were breaking the link to her soul. It's hard to believe, but she was doing most of the work. And she stopped."  
  
"Why?" Chaotzu asked quietly.  
  
Uranai Baba peeked from under the brim of her hat. "She knows something. I think she just saved us all."  
  
*****  
  
Goten dropped in the front lawn and sighed in relief. After a sparring match with Goku early this morning, and breakfast, they had ended the camping trip. He rubbed his sore arms - sore from blocking all of his father's hard hits. He was surprised to see lights in the house. He had thought Jita would still be away. Perplexed, he went inside, hoping to see what was up with his wife.  
  
He finally found Jita in a chair in her library. A book was laying open on the chair arm, but she was not reading it. She was staring ahead, her eyes tired and bloodshot. She seemed to be mumbling something in Saiyan.  
  
"Hey, Jita?"  
  
Jita started at his greeting. Behind her red eyes the pain was so evident that Goten took her in his arms the instant he saw them. At first rigid, she relaxed in his grip.  
  
"You know I love you," Jita said in a hoarse whisper, as if she had been holding back tears. "And Jiten. I love him too. I love you both, no matter what happens."  
  
Goten just nodded his head. He wouldn't ask her what happened. He knew a bit of it. He'd seen it in his dreams, and now the reality of what he'd seen was confirmed. He didn't understand everything that had happened, but he knew that Jita had given something up - something important. And all he could do was love her.  
  
*****  
  
"So, did you win the tournament?"  
  
Jiten sat outside with Vegeta in the garden. If there was anything that could rival Granpa's stories, it was Uncle Vegeta. He had been to so many planets - seen so many aliens - and he never ran out of stories. Some with his mom, and some without. But all exciting.  
  
"No," Vegeta replied. "I already told you Zarbon was in the tournament. I wasn't entirely weak against him, and that final match took all day, but I was younger and weaker at the time. He got the better of me." (7)  
  
Jiten's eyes were shining nonetheless. "And the way you defeated that Ginyu when everyone said you couldn't. Wow . . . I wish you could've beaten Zarbon that time."  
  
Vegeta smirked. "Well, I killed him much later on, on Namek, so it evens out. And I killed that Ginyu fool on Namek as well . . ."  
  
"I really wish you wouldn't tell him all those violent stories," Bulma interrupted. "What if he becomes -"  
  
"Violent?" Vegeta finished for her.  
  
Bulma glared. "I just don't think those stories are suitable for children. I told you just as much when Trunks and Bra were little."  
  
Vegeta crossed his arms. "Alright. You tell some of your stories. Maybe what you did for Roshi to get a Dragonball. Or how that weakling Yamcha defeated the invisible man. I'm sure THAT'S more suitable for children." (8)  
  
Bulma glared at Vegeta, who was looking a bit too smug, until she felt Jiten tugging on her pants leg.  
  
"How DID he beat the invisible man?" Jiten asked innocently.  
  
"Uh . . ." Bulma stammered, turning bright red. "Uh . . . Tomato soup! That's how. Krillen doused him with tomato soup . . . that Goku had to get me and Master Roshi to bring. That's it!" She smiled in triumph as Vegeta fought to suppress laughter.  
  
As Bulma and Vegeta continued to argue, Jiten slipped out of the garden and up to his usual room at Capsule Corp. As he passed, he ignored Trunks having an important-sounding conversation on his cell phone. He likewise ignored Bra dancing around her room, singing some nasally-sounding pop song. When he got to the room - Trunks old room - he turned the TV to cartoons and grabbed his sketchpad and pencils.  
  
As he began to draw a picture of what looked like a much-younger Vegeta killing his interpretation of Zarbon - a mean ugly monster - he turned up the TV, hoping that Bugs Bunny would drown out that whisper. That voice.  
  
-----  
  
Footnotes:  
  
1. This is, of course, a bunch of Dragonball references. Apparently, by the time of Dragonball Z, everyone had forgotten who had defeated the Red Ribbon Army, Piccolo Daimaou, and Piccolo Jr., and subsequently saved the world. I guess it's because Goku never cashed in on his victories like Hercule did.  
  
2. All the above is more Dragonball references. I never watched more than one or two episodes of the Dragonball anime, but I read most of the manga I downloaded. Everything I include is from the manga, and I used specific descriptions of Baba's place in the desert.  
  
3. Another little jewel from the manga. Uranai means "fortuneteller". Urenai means "unmarried" or "not popular". Goku keeps calling Baba Urenai instead of Uranai. Makes for some funny scenes.  
  
4. If you got a little confused in this paragraph, Master Roshi is the Turtle Master, Karin - or Korin - is the Cat Master, and the Crane Master, as far as I remember, is never given a name, but he is the sensei of Tien and Chaotzu and the rival of Master Roshi. Roshi ends up defeating the Crane Master when Tien refuses to kill Goku.  
  
5. This is the translation of the song that Baba sings in the manga to make Yamcha's fight against the Invisible Man more difficult. I think I heard her sing in the anime, but I can't remember those words. I think it's just kind of funny.  
  
6. This is very cute. When Goku is trying to find Bulma and Krillen in the pirate's cave, he's going against an octopus while Krillen's going against General Blue. Goku calls the octopus a cuttle fish at first. The octopus tries to eat Goku, and then Goku cheerfully grills the octopus with a kamehameha. It's the most cavalier killing Goku ever commits. He then eats the octopus. Can we all say 'yum'?  
  
7. I cheated and took this story from my other fic, "Being of Sound Mind and Body". Of course, the histories don't mesh, since I stay more in canon with "Being" than with "The Soul" - when it comes to Vegeta's past. If there's anyone who reads both of my fics, they'll appreciate this little reference. You can find it in chapter 8 of "Being".  
  
8. All right, these were cheap shots. I'm sure these scenes in Dragonball differed in the manga, the Japanese anime, and the English dub anime. I'll just mention what I know. In the manga, and probably the Japanese anime, Bulma gets a dragonball from Roshi in their first meeting by showing him her panties. Little does she know that Goku already relieved her of that all-important article of clothing when he was confused - and shocked - about her lack of male - umm - body parts. And then there's how Yamcha defeats the Invisible Man. As I said before, Baba was singing loudly so that Yamcha couldn't hear the movements of the Invisible Man. So Krillen, little pervert that he is, tells Goku to fetch Bulma and Master Roshi. In the manga, and, again, probably the Japanese anime, Krillen positions Bulma with her back to the ring and Roshi facing her with his head tilted slightly upward. Krillen then pulls up Bulma's shirt, where we get treated to a huge shot of Bulma's breasts. (Am I the only one that finds it strange that Bulma was going bra-less. And I don't mean her future child. Especially when Toriyama draws the breasts as twice as big as when she's wearing clothing. She shouldn't be able to pull off the bra-less look.) Anyway, Master Roshi subsequently has a nosebleed, as he always does when confronted with nude females, and douses the Invisible Man with blood. Now, in the English dub anime, the red substance is tomato soup, which they explain in the dialogue that the group is going to have a picnic . . . with tomato soup . . . right . . . And they needed both Roshi and Bulma . . . why? Just some funny observations. Apparently the Bulma in this chapter works for Funimation. Oh, well.  
  
-----  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (I'm jealous! I want $5 pizzas. And now you're making up for that string of time with few uploads. You've almost finished! Me, I have a ways to go. Hope you enjoyed this one.), aqua-illusion (I'm sorry for the crappy week. I hope you're better now. If not, maybe you can get into another good mood with this chapter.), tim333 (You are MUCH better than I about updating. And I hope you enjoyed all the Dragonball manga references this chapter, you manga purist you. Not that there's anything WRONG with that. Heh-heh. Moving on. I thought Jiten was pretty great myself. I think it's tragic when little kids can't be little kids, so I wanted to give Jiten a little kid personality. Hope I kept that up this chapter.), supersaiyaman (A new reviewer! I'm not sure, but I think all your questions are answered in the story so far. Hope you keep reading.), sakura117us (Another new reviewer! I feel so special . . .), and ssj4mystiephrase12369 (There's my WinMX MST3K fan. Sorry I haven't seen you in the chat room lately, but I've been busy with writing and school. It's a hard life. I may look for you just to tell you that the chapter's up. Of course, if you're reading this, you already know that. Ok.)  
  
My next chapter may take a bit to get out. Finals are imminent, and deadlines can be heard in the distance like drumbeats heralding a beheading. (I'm not called Poetess for nothing.) Until next time. 


	34. Unload on Me

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes:  I know you all have been waiting for this for a while, but it's just now that I've been able to work on it.  I got all A's and one B for my final grades though.  And that one B was just because I didn't study for the class that much.  So, congrats to me.  Hope you all did well on your finals, since I think most of you are students.  I know this chapter isn't as long as some of my other recent chapters, but next chapter is the Budoukai.  I just wanted something leading in, since my last chapter represented two years previous.  I hope you all enjoy.  I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, but I WILL be starting on a new story, a kind of summer project.  It's going to be a parody of both DBZ and DBZ fanfiction, mostly the romance genre.  I've really been looking forward to writing it, so I hope you all check it out once I've got the first of it posted.

**Chapter 33: Unload on Me**

Jita sat at the table across from Chichi and put her cup down.  "I don't know what it is, Chichi, but I don't think I'll ever be able to get my tea as good as yours."

Chichi smiled.  "You haven't had as much practice as I have.  Besides, I noticed in your kitchen that you use instant tea now."

Jita looked up indignantly.  "It's all I have time for.  Besides, I use tea leaves sometimes.  I only use the instant when I'm making it for…"

"The hotel you call a house?" Chichi broke in.

Jita smiled wryly.  "It's hard to find a place to live in town, especially for young people."  Jita's face clouded.  "Especially for martial artists," she said quietly.  Then her voice shot up in a flare of temper.  "Do you know that insurance agencies charge more for martial artists?"

Chichi nodded sagely.  "Don't I know it.  Not too long ago, I tried to get a house in a suburban community.  I just got tired of living in the woods, and unlike some people, I can't teleport wherever I go."  Jita smiled at this.  "So I wanted to get a place closer to… well… civilization, but as soon as the realtors and insurance company looked into our lives, and saw how much we've had to pay in various damages, the price shot up to twice as much."  Chichi sighed.  "Well, I've here for so long, I guess I can live here for the rest of my life."

"Well, I don't see what the problem is.  If the buildings keep breaking, make stronger buildings.  I mean, sure, as soon as the planet's in trouble, bring out the strong people, but Kami forbid that the strong ones should catch a break every now and then.  I work so hard just to teach and strengthen my human students, but how am I supposed to motivate them when they know they'll just be obligated to protect an uncaring public."

Chichi smiled.  "You're preaching to the choir, Jita."

Jita broke from her tirade, knowing that Chichi had indeed suffered the most from the lot of a strong person, simply by having them in her family.  Jita took a calming sip of tea, steadying her nerves.  She watched the tea swirl in her cup.  She frowned.  Somehow, she was only reminded of fortune-tellers, which only reminded her of that night two years before, which just made her sick to her stomach.  Everything seemed to remind her of that night, when everything had come so close to unraveling.  When her hope for salvation had died.  Everything reminded her of that night.  That night…

YOU'VE CARRIED THE CURSE OF YOU FAMILY TO YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILD.  YOU HAVE THIS FAMILY ON STOLEN TIME.  ONCE YOU ARE GONE, THEY WILL BE GLAD.  AS IF YOU WOULD SEE THEM IN HELL… WELL, MAYBE THE BOY…

Jita's stomach lurched as she tried to conceal the shudder that always ran through her whenever the voice came back.  Lately, most of the time she couldn't even tell the difference between the voice talking to her and the mere remembrance of what he'd said.  Both had become just as vivid, and just as frightening.  

Jita eyes hardened at the admission to herself.  The weakness of fear had unrelentingly followed her for her entire life, death, and life again.  And it wasn't fair.  Well… maybe it was, but that wasn't the point.

WELL, MAYBE THE BOY…

That's what truly scared her.  She didn't truly care about herself anymore.  She knew that she had brought all this on herself, but her unforgivable misdeeds in life and her blatant stupidity in death.  She knew she deserved unending torture, and wasn't complaining anymore.  She would just enjoy the rest of the "borrowed time" she had.  But the boy.  Jiten.  The voice joked and lied about a lot of things, but never about people's souls.  He took that too seriously.  His entire life centered on souls.  So what did her mean about Jiten?  Surely he had no claim over her son…

"So how's Jiten doing?"

Jita's eyes shot up in a near-imperceptible moment of surprise, quickly swept away.  Jita formed her mouth in a sad stern line.  "He's one of the few first-graders to EVER be suspended from school."

Chichi's brow furrowed.  "How did THAT happen?"

                                                 -----

_Jita walked into the somber office from the obnoxiously cheerful hallway, which was decorated with crepe border, primary-colored sheet paper, and laminated cut-outs of sentient spectacled worms crawling out of apples and reading books.  Jita shuddered.  Didn't those people realize how disgusting that was when you actually thought about it?_

_"Can I help you?" asked a prim lady from behind a cluttered and heavily laden desk.  Print-outs of e-mail forwards and cut-out comic strips were haphazardly taped around the wall next to her desk, all featuring tongue-in-cheek humor about the hard work and underappreciation of teachers and secretaries.  The woman had a pleasant smile on her face, yet with a hard edge that seemed to say 'if you dare to patronize me, don't even bother bringing your brat back here.'  Jita understood the look only too well.  She, after all, was a teacher herself._

_In a firm voice that sent the message 'look, neither of us are ditzes, so let's just get down to business', Jita said, "I received a call earlier about my son.  I believe we've spoken on the phone before.  My name is Son Jita."_

_The secretary's eyes shifted to a more judgmental standpoint, looking Jita over with the practiced eyes of someone who is used to the apple not falling far from the tree.  Her tone grew a tad colder.  "Ah, yes.  Jiten's in there, Mrs. Son."  She pointed to the door right behind her.  A gold plate was labeling the door.  Jita was barely able to discern the name 'Mr. Write' from the scratched surface._

_"Thank you," Jita replied, just as coldly.  If this woman wanted to be treated with respect, then she should do the same to others.  Jita swept past the woman and walked up to Mr. Write's office, having to stop herself from just entering without knocking.  She could never get used to that cultural practice._

_"Come in," she heard an amiable voice answer.  Jita entered, and immediately sought out the reason for her visit to the school, in the middle of the day.  There Jiten was, sitting in a functional chair that looked like it had seen better days.  His arms were folded and a look of pure defiance was plainly written on his childish round face.  Jita almost smiled at the look so often mirrored by herself and her brother, but now was not the time to smile.  Now was the time to frown, give looks of disapproval, say stern words, dole out punishment, teach him some manners . . .  Dear Kami, how she hated it.  She wished so badly that he would just behave and learn his lessons and respect his elders, or at least just play by the rules once in a while.  Then maybe he could avoid some of the hard lessons she'd had to face._

_"Mrs. Son, so good to meet you again," the older man said, clearing away, Jita noticed with a smirk, a game of solitaire on his computer._  "I just wish it were under better circumstances."__

_Jita merely nodded her head slightly.  "What has Jiten done, Mr. Write?"_

_Write cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "Well, it seems you son got in a scuffle with another boy… from the seventh grade."_

_Jita's alarms instantly went up as she realized the consequences of such a happening.  "Is the other boy alright?"  Which, of course, meant 'is the other boy still living?'     _

_Write gave a weak smile.  "Ah… yes… just a bloody nose.  Your son is, after all, only six.  He probably just caught the boy off-guard."_

_Jiten hmphed at this, but Jita silenced him with one stern look.  But Jita was extremely relieved at Jiten's control, even during a display of a lack thereof.  "How did the incident begin?"_

_"Well… I… um…"_

_"He made fun of my tail," Jiten cut into the principal's blathering.  "And then he pulled it.  And he had this stupid grin on his face.  I had to do something about it."_

_"Um… ah… yes…  Fighting being a clear violation of the school rules, and a rather serious one, Jiten will have to be suspended for two days."_

_"Good!" Jiten yelled.  "I don't wanna go to this stupid school anyway!"_

_"Jiten!!"__ Jita yelled, a murderous glare fixed on her son.  _

_Jiten matched it with one of his own.  "The other boy isn't getting suspended!  He's just getting detention 'cause he's a stupid ball player!"_

_Suddenly Mr. Write's sputtering died.  "Now, where did you hear that, young man?!"_

_"I was sitting right out here!  Your stupid walls are too thin!"_

_"Jiten, wait just outside the door," Jita cut in._

_"But, mom…"_

_Jiten trailed off when he felt the tiniest upsurge in his mother's ki.  Not enough to even rustle the papers on the principal's desk, but enough to tell Jiten that his mother was being serious.  With the pouty glare still firmly in place, Jiten stomped outside the door and slammed it._

_Mr. Write collected himself a bit, though he was still a bit unnerved at Jita's intense stare.  "You must realize, Mrs. Son, that this is not the first sign of violence in your son.  He does not get along well with other children.  His grades may be excellent, but his conduct is unacceptable."_

_"I DO read the notes his teachers send home, and I do remember the various phone calls, Mr. Write."_

_"But this violence has taken it to a new level," Mr. Write resumed.  "It is not uncommon for an older child to be arrested for attacking another student.  I am extremely disturbed by the unprovoked attack from a child so young…"_

_"So, the older boy didn't pull Jiten's tail," Jita's voice again cut in, this time refusing to be ignored.  "You said the incident was unprovoked."_

_Mr. Write frowned.  "I hardly think that just a little tail pull is justification for a brutal attack.  None of my animal students with tails react that way…"_

_Jita leaned forward a bit, infuriated at the stupidity she was hearing.  "I'm sure none of these sentient animals feel extreme pain when their tails are pulled.  My son does.  And maybe some of the animals should react the way my son did.  You are speaking nonchalantly of harassment and a violation of personal space."_

_"I'm not sure how things are done in your dojo, Mrs. Son, but we do not encourage violence here.  If there is a problem, we talk it through and dole out punishment when needed.  We believe in discipline here, no the students taking matters in their own hands."_

_Jita's arms folded.  "It is very clear that you don't know how things are done in my dojo or even about martial arts in general.  If you did, you would know that martial arts is all about discipline.  Our primary lessons are discipline, control, and especially when not to fight.  However, we also teach children to stand up for themselves.  Letting students harass each other without punishment of the bully or allowing the victim to defend himself does not discourage violence, it only encourages it."_

_The principal's lips were very white, while the rest of his face was red.  "I can see that we cannot reach an agreement about this.  I will cut off a day from Jiten's suspension, so he'll stay home for one day.  If there are any more outbursts from him, other measures may have to be taken."_

_Jita's face was a stony mask.  "I agree to this punishment.  But if I hear that my son has been harassed again, I'm taking it up with the school board."  And with that she swept out of the room, not giving the principal time enough to reply.  Her son greeted her on the other side of the door, grinning at her for telling Mr. Write off.  A single look of disapproval changed his attitude.  Jiten prepared himself for a scolding, but Jita remained silent, even as she was signing his check-out sheet and discipline form._

_As the two walked out of the building, Jiten started to say something, but was silenced again in surprise as his mother grabbed him up with one arm and began flying home.  Jiten slumped in her grasp.  He knew he was in trouble when he wasn't even allowed to fly under his own power.  Flying was his favorite thing to do in the whole wide world, even when it was as mundane a journey as flying home from school.  Jiten tried to shift his backpack to a more comfortable position, but the grip his mother had on him made it impossible.  He closed his eyes in misery and simply waited to get home._

_Goten was just walking outside when Jita landed between the house and the dojo, a still pouting Jiten clutched tightly to her side.  Motioning to Goten with her head, she walked into the house and set Jiten firmly on his bed.  _

_"Jiten, look at me," Jita said in a dead calm._

_He looked down at the blue carpet, stubbornly and fearfully avoiding her eyes._

_"Jiten," Goten said a bit more sharply.  Jiten's eyes snapped up in surprise at the change from his father's usually cheerful tone.  The twin disapproving glares of his parents met him, and he glared right back.  It wasn't his fault anyway.  And it wasn't fair._

_Jita judged the boy's resolve.  She hated to view her son as an opponent, but it seemed to be the case everyday.  "Goten, it seems our son has felled a sixth-grader and gotten himself suspended from school," she said in light disdain._

_"It was a seventh-grader," Jiten corrected her with a smirk.  Then he got one good look at his father and silenced himself.  He gripped his pants to keep his hands from shaking and to wipe the clammy sweat away.  Kami, his dad looked scary when he was angry._

_"You know what we've said about attacking people, especially those that are weaker than you, Jiten.  You don't want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt," Goten said in a tight voice._

_"It wasn't my fault anyway," Jiten mumbled bitterly.  "He pulled my tail."  Jiten absentmindedly fidgeted with his tail, still feeling the sore spot where the boy had given it a good yank._

_Jita sat next to the boy, pulling the tail out of his hands.  That was a bad habit.  "Did your Uncle Vegeta not teach you to keep your tail around your waist so that wouldn't happen?"_

_"I guess," he mumbled.  But then he realized what he was doing, that he was admitting defeat, and that his parents were right, and that it was his fault.  "But it's not fair!  It's not my fault!  He was asking for it!  He's just a weakling human, anyway!  I'm a lot better than him!  And at least I have a tail, unlike some Saiyans!"_

_Considering the superiority of Saiyan hearing, and the complete stunned silence in the room, a cell division would have probably been heard.  Jiten, for his part, was unashamed of his audacity.  He knew he was in for it, but he didn't care.  He'd only said the truth._

                                                 -----

"So then I left the room," Jita concluded, taking a sip of the newly hot tea.  "I couldn't stay in there any longer, not and keep from doing something I'd regret.  I just let Goten handle it.  He said he gave Jiten a serious talk, but everyone has given Jiten serious talks.  I don't know how much it helps."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Chichi said offhandedly.  "I mean, how good were you at authority when you were a child."

Jita just looked at her.  "At least I knew when to quit."

"And when did you know when to quit," Chichi looked at her over the edge of her cup.

Jita considered, and then smiled slightly.  "All right.  So it was when I was being half-killed for my insolence.  I don't want to do that to Jiten, though."

Chichi laughed.  "And do you think I want you to do that to Jiten?  You're a good mother, and you're doing the best you can.  Jiten's just got to figure things out for himself.  How's he doing now, buy the way?"

"Back in school," Jita replied.  "Still angry.  Especially since we're not allowing him to compete in the Budoukai."

Chichi's eyes widened.  "He's been looking forward to that for weeks, ever since it was announced.

Jita shook her head.  "I hated to do it, but he's been nothing but trouble lately.  He talks back to me at every opportunity.  We tell him to stay in his room, but he gets out as soon as we're not looking.  Nothing I or Goten does helps.  It's like… when I scold him, I see that he wants to follow my words, but then something snaps in him.  He becomes defiant.  It's like… there's two of him.  I can't figure it out."

Chichi shook her head at the younger mother's worries.  "I think you're reading too much into it.  I think he's being a normal child.  He may not be as responsible with his strength as you'd like, but that will come with age.  I doubt he's going to go start blasting people indiscriminately."

Jita let out a heavy breath.  "Maybe you're right.  The last thing I want to become is a mother who's always fretting about her child."

Chichi frowned slightly and cleared her throat, changing the subject.  "So, Jita, I heard there was some trouble with the Budoukai."

Jita buried her face in her hands.  "Don't get me started on that.  That Budoukai is getting to be more trouble that it's worth.  Yes, I understand the need for it, and the tradition that goes back for centuries, and I respect that.  But I don't see the point in all the politics.  The registration is getting more than I can stand."

Chichi looked up in surprise.  "Registration?  In years before we've just shown up and signed in.  Anyone can participate in the preliminaries."

"Apparently this is a new development.  I'd like to just show up on the day, but the people in charge of registration said that the number of participants has gotten so large that it has gotten unwieldy.  So… they're weeding them out beforehand."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad.  It sort of makes sense," Chichi tried to reason.

Jita's eyes flashed in anger.  "Oh, really.  It may not sound so bad at first, until you know the criteria by which they're judging the combatants."

                                                      -----

_Jita walked out of the main hallway into her cluttered office.  She usually made sure not a speck of dust remained on her desk for more than a day, but lately she'd been too busy with one thing or another.  Even when she could get more than two minutes together, she hardly felt like cleaning.  _

_She did slightly wish that she'd had some time to straighten out the area, for there in the middle of the room stood two men.  She recognized the blonde man from Budoukais of the past, but the other rather unpleasant looking one was unfamiliar.  He had the smug expression Jita had seen many times before, usually in the figures of authority in Frieza's Army.  And in Frieza himself.  Jita frowned slightly at the train of thought, but forced a thin smile.  She'd learned the art of forcing smiles long ago._

_"Hello.  I am Son Jita, Spider Master.  What can I do for you?"_

_The blonde man stuck out his hand and smiled, his eyes seeming to shine even behind his dark glasses.  "Jita-san?  I am Rayban.  Tint Rayban.  You've probably seen me as the announcer at the Tenkaichi Budoukai."_

_Jita's smile began to become a little less forced.  "I've only attended one Budoukai, but I have heard that you've been announcing for as much as fifty years."_

_Rayban__ gave a personable laugh.  "More or less."_

_Jita stared closely at the announcer, attempting to pick up signs of age.  Except for a few laugh lines and a slightly receding hairline, there were none.  Jita shook her head.  He must have been one of those humans who aged much slower than others._

_The other man cleared his throat, obviously used to being slightly ignored next to the charismatic Budoukai announcer.  Rayban jumped slightly and nodded to the man.  "This is Mr. Chien, the manager of the Tenkaichi Budoukai."_

_Mr. Chien bowed.  "I've heard much about you and your husband, Jita-san.  And speaking of your husband…"_

_Jita nodded her head slightly, but her teeth immediately went on edge.  "Chien-san.  My husband is handling a class right now, and it's impossible for him to interrupt.  You'll forgive me, but I'll have to ask you to cut to the chase.  I cannot keep my classes waiting."_

_Rayban__ shifted nervously.  "Could I go look in on Goten-san's class?  I haven't really seen him since he was a chibi."_

_Jita nodded, but her eyes were still focused on Mr. Chien, who seemed to be giving her the once-over.  "Go ahead, Rayban-san.  Take the first hallway on the right.  You can't miss him."_

_Rayban__ hastily nodded his head and walked out.  Jita was left with Mr. Chien, who seemed to have pronounced judgment on her in his mind._

_"Now, Chien-san," Jita began slowly.  "What is this all about?  I know I sent in all of the proper registration forms, though I've only received confirmation on a few."_

_Chien smiled in a way the made Jita feel slimy all over.  "You are certainly observant, dear lady.  Registration is the reason I'm visiting you.  Though I was hoping to discuss it with the Spider Master."_

_Jita sat straighter in her chair.  "I AM the Spider Master.  Both my husband and I have taken that title.  We share equal power in this dojo."_

_Chien smiled placatingly.  "Of course.  I'm sure you do.  Well, we'll start anyway."_

_Jita sighed.  There was just no telling some people.  "Why have only a few confirmations come back.  I've received confirmations for Pecon, Danto, Pan, and – well – all the rest are boys."  Jita sat on the edge of her chair.  "Why is that?"_

_Chien's smile began to become a little frozen.  "In recent years the Budoukai has become extremely popular to all sorts of people, especially since those strange magician types have stopped coming.  If we held the preliminaries like always, then it'd be pure chaos.  And it would take weeks just to hold the preliminary rounds.  In the meantime, we'd have to feed and house all the contestants.  The new rules are for weeding the contestants out at the beginning, and only allowing so much representation for each school.  It wouldn't be fair if the __Spider__School__ had twice as much representation as, say…"_

_"The _Satan__School__?"___ Jita interrupted wryly._

_Chien cleared his throat.  "Just as an example.  Considering the newness of the __Spider__School__, plus the fact that this is the first time your _Spider___School__ will be participating in the Budoukai, you'll agree that limiting the number of participants is only fair."_

_Jita crossed her arms and frowned.  "Say it is fair, for example.  By what criteria did you choose from the many registration forms I sent in.  I know that I sent a better recommendation for Darjili than I sent for Danto."  _

_She started shuffling through the copies she'd made of the forms.  Chien shifted in discomfort.  He hadn't counted on her having the foresight to keep records of the registration forms.  Usually newbies to the tournament didn't think ahead enough.  In fact, no one had thought of keeping records in light of the new rules._

_Jita continued.  "In fact, I don't see any other reason these girls are overlooked.  And don't think I didn't notice that you picked the boys out."_

_Chien again smiled his slimy smile.  "Well, we DO have to keep the quality of the Budoukai.  And the fact is, no woman has ever won a tournament, or even gotten past her first match in the semi-finals."_

_"Yet they got to the semi-finals, beating all the men in the preliminaries.  And I seem to remember one of my students going quite far in two of the Budoukais, one when she was just four or five."_

_"Ah, well, that's different.  Being Hercule's granddaughter and all…"_

_"And as I recall," Jita interrupted, "Hercule's daughter Videl has won the junior competition before.  Though I suppose you only counted the adult division in your previous statement.  But, again I ask, why are you giving preference to the men?  And what am I going to tell the girls, huh?  'Oh, I'm sorry.  I know you've worked your butts off and everything, but you can't participate in the Budoukai because you don't have the right kind of genetalia!'"_

_"Ah… well… I…"_

_"Because it seems to me that, if women are inferior as you say, they would be cleared out in the preliminary rounds.  Since you don't want as much of a representation of my school, allowing me to register women would ultimately benefit the final rounds."_

_Inwardly, Jita was trembling in rage.  She was forcing herself to keep her ki in check, lest she disintegrate the weasel in front of her._

_But Mr. Chien WAS being affected by Jita's glare.  He'd never seen anything so terrifying.  He gulped, his mind racing.  Why didn't he bring some protection along?  "I'm… sure… something can be arranged," he stammered out._

_"What then?" Jita clipped out.  "What arrangement can be reached?"_

_As Jita began to calm down, Mr. Chien's smile began to return.  He had an idea to trap this woman in front of him with a deal she couldn't refuse, no matter how much she wanted to.  "Here's the deal.  I'll allow more of your students to participate, including females, if you'll do one thing."_

_"And what is that?" Jita asked impatiently.  She didn't like the glint that was coming into Chien's eyes._

_"You and your husband do an exhibition match to introduce your school."_

_"What?!"__ Jita said incredulously.  This was certainly not what she'd expected._

_Chien smiled and leaned forward.  "The fact is, while we have plenty of participants, attendance has been going down in the past few Budoukais.  This'll boost your fame, and help us out in the long run."_

_Jita smirked.  "So, you're wanting to leech off our school's popularity.  I find it funny that the __Spider__School__ has reached this level of popularity without the help of the Tenkaichi Budoukai.  And no, we won't be doing an exhibition match.  Martial arts is not just a show.  It's a tradition of personal excellence and proving that excellence with competition.  Using it for anything else just cheapens the tradition."_

_Mr. Chien stood up.  "Those are high sounding ideals.  You also don't make money or hold these competitions by those ideals.  People like me to support people like you.  You couldn't do a thing without charging money of your students, and you couldn't get students without proper advertising."  Chien pulled a form out and put it on Jita's desk.  "Think of this as payment for what we do for you.  It's not that hard a payment.  All we ask is that you give a simple exhibition match that we advertise, and you'll be much better off in the end."_

_At that moment, Goten and the announcer Rayban walked in, talking and laughing about Budoukais in the past.  Jita looked into Goten's eyes, and knew that Rayban had filled him in on everything that was going on.  All Goten did was give a slight nod to Jita, and signed his name on the paper, completely ignoring Mr. Chien.  Chien noticed, but didn't comment.  He was too busy congratulating himself on his own success.  Jita sighed a heavy sigh, and signed her name.  With a few parting remarks, Rayban and Chien left the office.  Rayban gave an apologetic look as he left._

_Goten glared at the door.  "You know we really didn't have a choice."_

_Jita sat back in her chair, her arms crossed.  "I know."_

_"And it won't be so bad," Goten continued on a lighter note._

_"I know," Jita repeated._

_Goten sighed and shook his head.  "OK, I know, it's ridiculous and I hate it, but sometimes we've got to do these things."_

_"What, pacify the idiots of the world?"_

_Goten laughed.  "Something like that.  Tint said that the rest of the students we originally registered should be allowed into the preliminaries by now.  It was just our school they were doing like this."_

_Jita rose in her chair.  "You mean that dog lied to me?"_

_"What, he told you that those rules applied to everyone?" Goten shook his head angrily.  "I'm just glad the announcer was there with him."_

_Jita scowled.  "I still don't like it.  I have no wish to be a mere entertainer.  That's just what we've been fighting against."_

_"Well, what can we do, Jita?  I know you're sick of playing by these baka rules, but it's the only way to do things.  We're doing what's best for our students, and that's all that matters.  Besides," he finished with a wink after his short burst of temper, "I promise not to rough you up too much in our match."_

_Jita blinked to make sure he was kidding, and then shot to her feet in mock indignation.  "You still think you can take me?"_

_"Only one way to find out," Goten responded smugly/_

_Jita smirked.  "OK, we fight at the Budoukai.  But we do it our way.  None of this weakling 'exhibition' crap.  We have a real fight.  Got that?" she said in a challenge._

_Goten nodded.  "Accepted," he said in a mock of her voice._

                                                           -----

            Chichi shook her head.  "I just can't believe it.  How can the Budoukai have gotten so low?  I wonder if it was Hercule that changed it so much."

            Jita smiled grimly.  "I talked to the man.  He didn't have a thing to do with it.  It may have been Hercule that enforced the mentality of the present-day Budoukai, but I think it was more people like Mr. Chien.  They work behind the scenes, but they still have power over us.  It's like the insurance companies.  They control warriors through money, counting on the idea that the warriors won't raise a hand against them."

            "And no warrior will," Chichi concluded.  "Goten was right.  You have to play by their rules sometimes.  It's not fun, but it's necessary.  It still sickens me – that mentality that women can't fight."

            Jita looked down, haunted by the memory.  "I really had to control myself there.  The only other place I've ever seen that type of mentality was in Frieza's Army.  I was treated like the lowest of the low, and I couldn't do anything about it.  At least on Planet Vegeta it was because I had no tail.  Saiyan women were treated with respect and equality.  The only thing that mattered on Planet Vegeta was rank and power level.  As far as I'm concerned, anyone who has that mentality is little better than Frieza."

            Chichi stared sympathetically at the Saiyan woman.  "But are you alright?"

            Jita closed her eyes, thinking.  "Yes, I think I'm alright.  I just feel so…  I don't know… alien," she ended with a laugh.  "These rules and this culture are so strange to me sometimes.  Sometimes I can't even understand my own husband.  As I keep on adapting to life on Earth, I just end up feeling less Saiyan, and at the same time more alien.  But I'll be fine," she ended with a sad smile.

            "Yes, you will," Chichi said with forced cheerfulness.  "And tomorrow is the Budoukai, which I've forced my family to attend, so we can lend you support."

            Jita nodded.  "My brother and his family are coming as well.  Just try to make sure that Kakarrot and Vegeta don't go off to spar before the Budoukai is over.  It'd do Kakarrot good to see some of the strong human fighters.  Earth has plenty of defenders, or will once they've trained up enough."  Jita stood up, stretching out the kinks from sitting with Chichi so long.  "I've got to go.  There's so much to do before tomorrow.  I've got about twelve warriors to prepare."

            Chichi smiled and began gathering up the remnants of the tea.  "I'm glad that you came over, though."

            Jita laughed.  "I didn't mean to unload on you.  There was just a lot on my mind."

            "Perfectly alright," Chichi called out to her as Jita was walking out the door.  "You can unload on me anytime."

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Dark Wolf (Finally got this one out.  I fooled around with long flashbacks in this chapter.  Hope you enjoy them.  Have fun this summer!  Hope to see your next chapter, and your sequel.  I'm not planning a sequel for this one.  I'm getting it all out in one story.  But I've got the transitional and background work out of the way.  Now I can focus on the action this summer.), aqua-illusion (Um… I hope you're alright.  Hope you didn't pop.  I was almost scared of the "Yek" and "No Way", but I'm glad I'm still a genius.  Even if I'm an evil genius.  Still, evil geniuses sometimes need hugs too.), tim333 (Thanks, tim.  I really needed the praise for this chapter.  I was really thinking about you when I was writing it.  I can't help but be a manga purist when it comes to Dragonball.  I've only read the manga; I haven't watched but a few episodes of the anime.  I seriously don't know how anyone could edit Dragonball.  The humor is so risqué, yet you can't leave it out.  It's too genius.), Omega (I hear ya about school.  But summer is here, and I'm taking full advantage of the smidgen of free time for writing.  Maybe soon the good authors will start back up on their updating.  I haven't had an update in my Favorite Stories section for it seems like weeks.), and last, but certainly not least, Tonifranz (I knew someone was lurking.  I gotta tell ya, I'm surprised that you don't have an author page.  But if you do, please tell me.  You write such concise reviews and have such good taste in writing, that I can't help but wonder what your own writing would be like.  First off, the review for "The Soul".  The plot DID start out unoriginal, because this was my first attempt, when I didn't really know what I was getting into and I hadn't read all that much fanfiction.  I've evolved a bit in the past year, as you can tell, into a better writer, I hope.  Yes, the first part of my story is a bit unoriginal, though I did try to avoid a lot of clichés.  But what I've got planned, I don't think anyone has ever done.  Jita: I'm really proud of this OC.  I didn't try to overdo the characterization; it just came out on its own.  I tried to take into account her past, which differs slightly from Vegeta, and her whole outlook on life.  Even though their pasts are similar, there's a definite difference in the way they were treated, and even personality.  I've tried to show the character changes she goes through on Earth.  Lately you've got to take into account her adaptability.  I just hope I'll continue to do well with her.  Vegeta: I'm not surprised I've had him in character.  He's my favorite, after all.  I've done plenty of one-shots of him, so I've had plenty of practice with writing him.  He'll play a bigger part once the action starts, so I'm looking forward to that.  Goku: I must admit, I didn't like him or understand him at first.  Now I've read a lot of character theories and just plain good writing, so I've gotten a better grip on his character.  I'm going to be doing some things to him later on, but I'm not sure how they're going to go over.  Goten:  He's the most open-ended character out there, except perhaps someone like Uubu.  He's a kid in DBZ, without even a future version to predict his adult character.  And DBGT just does him wrong.  All the demi-Saiyans in DBGT become glorified batteries; they're only used to power up either Goku or Vegeta.  It's sad, really.  I didn't want him to become weak or complacent like the other characters.  So I did what I could.  Chichi: I hate hate HATE how other people portray Chichi.  Even how the show portrays Chichi.  Whenever I write her, I always think of the ideal mother, putting a little of my own mother in as well as how I'd want to be when I get to be a mother and grandmother.  I needed a mother character for Jita, since she'd never had one.  I'm glad you noticed that aspect.  Jiten: I'm working on him.  He's never going to grow past seven in my story, but I'll try to make him believable.  Other character: I wanted to give them bigger parts, but it's impossible.  I'm covering too much of a scope, so I have to cut somewhere.  I try to include them whenever I can, though.  I'll be looking forward to your next review in about ten chapters.  Alright.  On with "Being of Sound Mind and Body."  For one thing, I even keep up with reviews for my first one-shots a year ago.  I never completely drop a story.  And I never get mad about any good (as in well-written) reviews.  So I'm not miffed in the least about you posting it twice.  Thank you for reading this fic, though.  I'm really proud of this story.  It's the first work I ever felt was truly original, as I've said before.  And I used the point-of-view device as a challenge.  I knew I was getting good at writing third person omnipotent, so I wanted to see if I could write first person.  Plus, it was a break from my work on "The Soul," which can get extremely difficult to write.  I'm really flattered that you compared my work to "Ki-Blind."  I really admire Sholio's work, even if she has such a busy schedule that it takes her months just to get a chapter up.  I've been waiting on "Dark Prince Saga" forever.  I'm glad you agree with me on not including what Frieza does to Vegeta.  I just didn't want to write it.  It's been done to death, and it would have definitely pushed up the rating.  I just didn't want to go there.  I know that the story was a good vehicle for describing chibi Vegeta, but I had to keep my focus.  Nappa, and my portrayal of him.  Now, about Raditz.  I agree that I didn't write him as the most likeable character.  But you have to realize that he was just a ten year old boy when he was suddenly faced with this five-year-old prince, and faced with the responsibility of him.  He didn't sign up for that.  Plus, you're comparing the relationship between Raditz and Vegeta with that of Nappa and Vegeta.  I definitely portrayed the Nappa/Vegeta relationship with that of paternal love.  If that's so, then Raditz would be more of an unwilling older sibling.  That really gets to Raditz, especially when he already has a younger sibling.  So, to answer your minor question about how Raditz reacts to Goku on Earth, I would mostly go with Dragoness Electra's interpretation.  Yes, I have read about half her work.  I haven't gotten to Descent yet, but I did read everything before that.  I don't know if I could give my own interpretation, but since I go with hers, then I guess that's the interpretation.  Raditz just didn't know how to react.  Anyway.  I thank you for reading "Being of Sound Mind and Body."  I'm halfway planning a type of sequel, maybe much later on, dealing with the life of Nappa's son, Baen, and maybe making it into a third person perspective.  I've had a few requests along those lines.  But first I've got to focus on "The Soul."  I'll try to be better about updating this summer, but as usual, I make no promises other than quality work.)

Wow, that was a long reviewer thanks.  The one for Toni went on for two pages, I think.  Well, next chapter should be very interesting.  I'm giving no hints.  Nope.  Not a word.  My lips are sealed.  I take the fifth.  Nothin' to say.  Move it along.  I'll never tell.  And so on and so forth.  I'll try to get it out as soon as possible.  Until next time.


	35. The 33rd Tenkaichi Budoukai

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes:  It feels so good to finally get this chapter out.  I mean it.  I was so frustrated lying in bed, too weak to get up, and staring across the room at my computer.  I wanted to write.  I finally had the time.  I just didn't have the ability.  It just wasn't fair.  Thankfully, I am over my sickness.  Unfortunately, part of my time is now being taken up with work.  There must be some sort of conspiracy against me.  But, despite many obstacles, I am providing my faithful readers with the next chapter in my saga.  Hope you enjoy.

Thanks to all my reviewers:  Dark Wolf (Thanks for reviewing both stories.  And I have checked out your new story.  It's… awesome, in a word.), Silver Warrior (Welcome to the story!  Hmm, I'm getting to how they're going to deal with the voice.  It may not be the type of fight you're expecting…), saiyen (Thanks!  Yeah, sometimes a part of FF.Net will screw up.  Murphy's Law, and all that.  Hope you enjoy the rest.  I think you stopped reading when it started getting really good.), tim333 (I knew you'd appreciate my buddy Tint.  The more I read into original Dragonball, the more I like it.  I'm starting to see why you're a manga purist.  There's a certain quality of humor that just doesn't get translated into the anime, even the original Japanese.  Oh, and I included the response to this review in the last review of Only Human.  If anyone is curious, check there.), Omega (Oh.  I hope you can keep up with this one.  I truly do enjoy seeing your review for every chapter.), and aqua-illusion (I blame it on all of our heroes who blew up the arenas for every single Budoukai they participated in, i.e. Goku, Tien, Piccolo, Vegeta…  Oh well.  And I think you're exaggerating Jiten's power a bit.  I think there'd be a certain amount of paranoia if even Goku would have to stifle each sneeze for fear of destroying the world, seeing as how a sneeze is an involuntary violent loss of control.  I mean, Jiten can't even go Super Saiyan yet.  Of course, there's a reason for that…).

And my evil genius multiplies exponentially with this chapter.  Hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 34: The 33rd Tenkaichi Budoukai**

Jita awakened from a shudderingly real dream.  Not a dream – a nightmare.  They were all the same.  Had been for years.  Voice tormenting her, the familiar and safe twisted into the frightening and demented…  They were all the same.  She'd tried to fool herself, saying that she'd gotten used to them and that they didn't really bother her anymore.  At least she didn't have any near-irresistible urges to kill her brother.  The Voice had pretty much figured out that it didn't work anymore.  She was too jaded against it.  Instead, he used her husband and son against her.  But the sting was going away from those taunts.  She was coping.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Jita shoved some of the covers off her uncomfortable clammy skin.  Being cold-natured, she usually piled quilts on her side of the bed, no matter what the season.  Even now, during the muggy heat of late spring, she had a heavy red and white quilt folded over double on her side.  But now, she couldn't stand it.  She just couldn't breathe.  The quilt ended up in a pile of clothes by the side of her bed.

She looked at the red numbers of the clock and groaned.  She only had fifteen minutes before she had to get up, wake everyone up, fix a quick breakfast, and see to it that everyone was ready to go.  And then there was traveling to the island, which would have to be done on a plane since some of the younger children that would be participating in the junior competition _could_ fly, but it would use up too much of their energy.  And she wanted to keep an eye on everyone, especially Jiten.  She knew Jiten would give her the slip the first chance he got.  He was still extremely angry about not being allowed to participate in the Budoukai.  As the fuzziness of sleep and nightmare left her head, the bad feeling the nightmare gave her stayed, quickly joined with the worries and overwhelming plans of the day.  It seemed the quiet before the storm, and her stomach was already twisting in knots just from the anticipation.

A strong arm draped over her from behind.  "Just another fifteen minutes," Goten mumbled.  Unconsciously, Jita snuggled into his embrace.  She didn't know why Goten wasn't like her, always worrying about something.  He could happily go through life without a worry, and everything worked out all right for him.  Of course, that wasn't fair.  He did worry, but he didn't let it get to him like she did.  He didn't let it spoil the good, carefree times, like being snuggled in a warm bed with the person you love before the day's hectic schedule.  Jita smiled and closed her eyes, pulling closer to Goten, who kissed her head lightly.  Just a few minutes more…

**_ENNNGGG-ENNNGGG-ENNNGGG-ENNNGGG-ENNNGGG_**

The lightning-quick reflexes of a Saiyan weren't enough to spare the two entirely of the obnoxious electronic sentinel.  Jita's hand whipped out to put an end to the noise, reminding herself at the last minute to stay her frustration and not break the alarm clock.  Goten and Jita rolled out of bed simultaneously and started throwing on clothes, having both taken showers the night before.  Jita was thankful that she didn't wear any makeup.  From what she'd seen of other females, the meaningless ritual could take up to an hour.  The two fought over the sink, though – Jita tried to brush her teeth while Goten was attempting to shave.  Their morning hygiene out of the way, and not even bothering to make their bed or put the strewn clothing into hampers, they moved out into the hallway.

"You get everyone up while I fix breakfast," Jita mumbled, still not truly awake.

"Gotcha," Goten replied to Jita's retreating form.  Walking a little ways down the hall, he bellowed, "EVERYBODY UP!!"

"I could have done that," Jita mumbled irritatedly.  But then she smirked.  She had actually gotten the easier of the two jobs.  It would take much more than that to get all those kids up.  Hopping down the stairs, she began preparing massive amounts of toast and scrambled eggs.  Nothing too fancy that day.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Jita's prediction was a reality.  Goten's wake-up call was answered by a few sleep grumbles, but nothing more.  Goten frowned and crossed his arms.  If any of them were Saiyans, the promise of breakfast would be enough to get everyone downstairs in a heartbeat.  None of them were Saiyans, however, so he would have to use different tactics.

He pulled open the door to a large room with four cots.  The boys' room.  Goten shook his head amusedly.  He could understand the three younger boys, but even Pecon was ignoring his sensei and opting to sleep.  Well, none of them had gotten much sleep that night.  Too nervous.  Too much to do.  But, of course, they'd have to get up.  He walked over to Pecon's cot and shook the monk gently.  "Hey, Pecon.  Get up, man.  I need your help."

Pecon blinked his eyes blearily, but reluctantly got out of bed.  Goten watched his face amusedly as the boy slowly realized what day it was.  His face went from sleepiness, to confusion, to thoughtfulness, then white with shock and slightly green with realization and nervousness.  But the boy quickly collected himself and nodded to his sensei.  He began to rouse the younger boys as Goten walked across the hall to the girls' room.

Goten tentatively knocked on the door.  He didn't really want to walk in on the girls, not knowing what state of decency he'd find them in.

"I'm up!  I'm up!" shouted a very irritated Darjili.  "Don't come in!"

"Well, hurry up!" Goten yelled back, relieved that they had woken up.  "All of you have fifteen minutes, or you won't have any breakfast."

Goten smiled at the sudden flurry of bumps, yells, and bitten-back curses.  He was about to relax (_That wasn't so hard_) when the doorbell rang.

"Goten, would you get that?!" Jita yelled.

Still rubbing his eyes, Goten practically flew downstairs and tore open the door.  A whole group of students had shown up at the same time, headed by the other two in the advanced class, Danton and Krianan.  He beckoned them all in, while stopping the parents from entering along with their children.

"But I just wanted to make sure she was all right!" one worried-looking mother complained.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Caly," Goten replied in his most reassuring voice.  "Teema will be just fine.  You can get her right after the junior competition."

Another mother pushed past him, yelling for the children headed for the living room.  "Pran!  You forgot your sun-block!"

An eleven-year-old boy turned back, blushing furiously.  "Thanks, mom," he mumbled, trying to avoid her attempt to give him a kiss on the cheek.

With a firm yet apologetic hand, Goten escorted Pran's mother and the rest of the parents out of the house.  "I'm really sorry, but we have to get them focused now.  You'll see them at the Budoukai."

**_THUMP_**

"OW!!  STOP IT!!"

Goten slammed the door and ran back upstairs.  He prayed that no one was injured or killed, or worse… that the bathroom had been wrecked.  "What's going on up here?!" he yelled.

"He snapped me with a towel!" cried an eight-year-old girl named Cinty.

"Well, she pushed me down!" Bo, a preteen boy, answered in turn.

"Neither of you are ready!" Goten bellowed, silencing them both.  "Bo, hang up your towel and get dressed.  I want you downstairs the second you get your shoes on.  Cinty, you get in line for the bathroom next.  If I hear anything from either one of you, you'll be doing laps instead of fighting in the Budoukai.  Understand?"  The two nodded.  "And that goes for the rest of you," he turned on the sniggering audience of the other live-ins.  You all have ten minutes."

_Brain-damaged.  They're all brain-damaged_, Goten thought wearily.

"Whoa!  Ow!"

Goten looked down and realized that he'd just plowed right into a fully dressed Darjili.  Thankfully, her hair was blue.  Not that it mattered much these days.

**_CRASH_**

Goten groaned.  "Darjili, you get downstairs and get some breakfast.  While you're at it, try and help Danton and Krianan keep the peace downstairs.  If you answer the door, don't let any parents come in."

Darjili sprang up.  "Yes, sensei."  She twirled around and bounded downstairs, sneezing on the way.

"Hey, it's my turn!  Goten-sensei said!"

Goten's patience was quickly wearing thin.  "Videra, let Cinty go in before you."

"But she takes too long!" the fifteen-year old girl complained.

"Cinty, you've got two minutes and counting.  One…"

The door to the bathroom slammed in a heart-beat.

"Where's my gi?!" one of the boys, Kirk, yelled.

Goten sighed and made his way to the boys' room, preparing to solve yet another minor catastrophe.

Trying to drown out the din from upstairs, Darjili made the rest of the way downstairs in time to answer the door.  Another ten students stood outside, collectively being fussed over by their parents.  Darjili felt a pang of bitterness, but quickly suppressed it.  "Hey, everyone!" she said as brightly as she could muster.  "We're all in the living room."  The students followed her in.  Thankfully, this set of parents remembered the agreement to leave their children as soon as they dropped them off.

"Good luck, Momed," one mother yelled out.

"We'll be up in the stands, Tim!"

Closing the door on the well-wishing parents, Darjili escorted the children into the living room.  Her sharp eyes investigated the crash from earlier.  A sculpture of Goten and Jita had dropped from the television.  Darjili remembered that it was unbreakable, though.  The crash had probably come from the kitchen.

"Hey, Darjili," Krianan greeted her fellow student.  "Isn't this crazy?"

Darjili gave a forced laugh.  "That's an understatement.  I almost got impaled with a comb this morning."

But Krianan was looking closer, past Darjili's light façade.  Darjili wasn't usually this cheerful as a blonde.  In a soft voice, she asked, "Hey, Darjili.  Anything wrong?"

"What do you mean?"  Darjili was still forcing the corners of her lips upward.

Krianan gave her a look and folded her arms.  Darjili sighed.  "It's just…

"Just what?"

"I'm… Dad's not coming."

Krianan pulled Darjili down to sit on the couch and put her arm around her friend.  "I know it's hard, but you know he loves you."

Darjili gave a weak smile.  "Yeah, I know.  But it's been years since Mom died.  He hasn't been himself since then.  I just wish he'd wake up.  I mean… he never was that affectionate, but it's like he can't even look at me."

"Darjili!  Could I have your help in here?!"

The girls jumped at Jita's voice.  "I guess I'd better go help Jita-sensei," Darjili said weakly.

"It'll be all right, girl," Krianan tried to reassure her.

"Yeah," Darjili replied, already taken up in the current of the other live-ins pouring into the kitchen.  "I know."

"Hey, is she all right?" Danton pushed through the other students to Krianan.

"Yeah," the girl answered.  "She's just a little bummed.  The usual."

Danton nodded.  "Well, maybe she'll feel better once the Budoukai really starts.  Nothing like good competition to make you feel better."

Krianan smiled.  "For once, Danton, I agree with you."

As Danton and Krianan tried to keep the peace in the living room, the kitchen was in utter chaos.  As Jita set the table with heaping plates of toast and eggs, Darjili was trying to eat, get a few of the live-ins to only take their fair share, and keep the non-live-ins from eating.

"Palla, you've already had breakfast!" she took a piece of toast away from a little nine-year-old girl.  "Now get back in the living room.  You need to be in there for roll call."

"But I'm still hungry," she whined, struggling against Danton, who was pulling her back into the living room.

Jita closed her eyes against the headache that was taking full root.  If she'd known that it was this hard…  She shoveled another few bites of food while the rest of the toast was cooking.  She knew this would probably be her only chance to eat in the near future.  She washed it down with a quick slug of orange juice and handed the rest of the food to Darjili.  Turning around, she was pleased to see that Goten had brought the rest of the live-ins downstairs, and they were obliterating breakfast as fast as they could.

"Listen up," she caught the attention of the live-ins.  "As soon as you're finished, put your plates in the sink and go to the living room.  We're having roll call in five minutes."  She did a quick head-count as she gave a thankful Goten a huge plate with his breakfast.  "You all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Goten answered in a haggard voice.  "Thank Kami it's a full three years before the next Budoukai."

Jita gave a sharp laugh.  "Don't even mention the next one.  I'm not even sure we're going to survive this one."  She frowned as she only came up with nine people in the kitchen, including herself.  "Where's Jiten?"

Goten suddenly choked on a bite of toast.  "Oh, Kami, I forgot about him."  He began to put down his food, but Jita knew he'd never see it again if he left it unattended.

"No, I'll go up and get him ready.  And I think there's another live-in up there."

Goten nodded gratefully.  He suddenly felt like a horrible parent.

Jita pushed aside a clump of students and bounded upstairs to her son's room.  She allowed a moment to smile at the peaceful sleeping countenance on Jiten's face, knowing it wouldn't survive a rude awakening.  Flicking on the lights, she softly prodded the six-year-old boy awake.  "Hey, Jiten.  Time to get up."

Jiten grumbled and turned over.  "Power to kill them…" he mumbled.

Jita froze, her insides turning to ice.  That didn't sound like her son.  That didn't sound like her son at all.  "Jiten.  Come on, baby, wake up."

Jiten's eyes opened suddenly.  He was trembling in a panic.  Jita recognized the same wide-eyed look she had every time she looked in the bathroom mirror after a voice nightmare.  But it couldn't be.  It couldn't be what she was thinking.

Jiten looked over at the clock beside his bed.  He jumped off the bed as soon as he saw what time it was.  He'd forgotten to set his clock, and he was late.  "I'm up, I'm up," he mumbled hoarsely to his mother, not even noticing the look she was giving him.

"Jiten," Jita grabbed the boy.  She thought of how to phrase the question.  She didn't want to freak him out, or make him worry unnecessarily.

"Yes, Mom?" he said uncomfortably, knowing he needed to be getting ready.  Like his parents, he'd taken a shower the night before.  But he still needed to brush his teeth and stuff.

"Do you… hear things?" Jita asked tentatively.  "Or have weird nightmares?  With a… voice?"

Jiten shifted uncomfortably.  "Of course not, Mom.  I'm not crazy."

Jita regarded her son worriedly, but realized that she would have to talk to him later about this.  She just didn't have time at the moment.  "OK, Jiten.  Let's get to the bathroom."

Jiten grabbed his gi and followed his mother.  The bathroom door was closed, and the sound of someone retching could be heard through the door.  "Hey," Jita knocked on the door.  "Are you all right in there?"

There was a pause, and then the sounds of a flushing toilet and a faucet running.  The door opened and Pecon walked out, looking sick and exhausted.  "I'm fine," he said, slumping downstairs.

Jita shook her head with pity.  Well, at least he wouldn't want any breakfast, because there probably wasn't any left.  She pushed Jiten into the bathroom.  "Be downstairs in a few minutes."

When she got downstairs, the last of the live-ins was finishing breakfast.  She spotted Darjili trying to force a piece of toast on Pecon, who looked ready to pass out.  Danton was breaking apart a shouting match between Sahn and Kiba, the other two live-ins from Jita's youngest class.  A group of ten-year-olds were fairly immersed in a complicated card game dealing with various fantastic-looking monsters.  That would have been all right, but now two of the boys, Spatn and Link, were arguing very loudly over how a magic card would affect the defense of one of the effect monsters.

Goten spotted Jita and smiled.  "ROLL CALL!!" he bellowed in relief.  That got everyone quiet.

"Danton ("Here."), Krianan ("Present."), Darjili ("Here."), Pecon ("Yes, sensei."), Pan (…) … Where's Pan?"

"Remember, she's going with her parents to the Budoukai," Pecon said weakly.

"All right," Goten continued.  "Videra ("Uh-huh?"), Kirk ("Yo!"), Janice ("I'm here."), Topela ("That's me."), Nikki ("Yes, sensei."), Pran ("President."), Bo ("Vice-president."), Sahn ("Here."), Kiba ("Not here."), Gwen ("Present."), Teema ("Hi!"), Spatn ("Huh?"), Link ("What?"), Puririn ("Put the cards away, it's roll call.  Oh… here!"), Robin ("Boys… here!"), Momed ("Here."), Palla ("There."), Toni ("Everywhere."), Franz ("Yes."), Jainy ("Bueller."), Cinty ("Stop it… here!"), Tim (Present and accounted for, sir!"), Maurer ("Shut up, Tim… here!"), Joe ("Yeah."), and Sahli (Last, as usual.")."  

Goten looked around, not believing his eyes.  They were all here.  They were actually all here.  They may have been smart-alecks, but they were here.  Goten and Jita shared a look that spoke of absolute relief.  They had gotten this far.  "All right, everyone," Goten continued, jolting them out of the low mumbling that was already beginning.  "You've all got everything?"

"I forgot my gi!" Franz shouted.  

Before the words were even out of his mouth, Jita tossed a gi to him from a rather large box labeled 'forgotten items'.   "Anyone else?"  There was a silent chorus of headshakes.  Jita raised her eyebrows and capsulated the box.  She was taking no chances.  "All right, we're ready to go.  Get with your… buddy…" she gave an exasperated look to Goten, who merely grinned and shrugged his shoulders, "and let's get on the plane."

There was a confusing clamor, but within a few minutes everyone had their duffels and was marching to the makeshift landing pad, herded by Goten and the advanced class.  Jita looked at the time, and couldn't believe they were only five minutes later than planned.  She had allowed for a good twenty minutes.  Despite her dark premonition of the day, things were going relatively smoothly.  _Perhaps I will live through today, she thought hopefully._

Making a quick run-through of the house, she disregarded the dishes in the sink.  "I'll do them tonight or tomorrow.  Whenever."  In fact, the house was the messiest it had been in a long time.  "Well, that will just have to wait."

She gathered up the leftovers that were amazingly left behind and filled up a child's cup with orange juice.  "Jiten!  Are you ready yet?!  We're leaving!"

Jiten ran down the stairs, still tying on his belt and combing his hands through his hair.  "Ready, Mom," he said breathlessly.

"Good.  I've got your breakfast, but you'll have to eat it on the way."  

Grinning, Jiten ran across the living.  In his eagerness, he didn't notice the ki statue that had been knocked to the floor.

CRASH

The sound of breaking crystal filled the room.  Jiten stopped dead in his tracks at the pile of broken shards on the floor.  He gulped, his mind screaming in frustration.  Why couldn't he stay out of trouble?

Jita surveyed the mess in regret, and then shook her head.  "It's ok, Jiten.  It was an accident."  She grabbed his hand and guided him out of the house, turning off lights and locking the doors.

"Hey, Mom."

"What is it, child?"

"I'm sorry about the sculpture."

"It's ok."

"Can I fight in the Budoukai today?"

Jita shook her head wearily.  "You know the answer to that, child.  Of course you can't fight in the Budoukai.  It's part of your punishment."

"But I've learned my lesson," he whined.

"Apparently you haven't since part of the lesson was to learn to take responsibility without question."

Jiten's face screwed up in an intense glare, but no one saw it, not even when they got on the plane, a plane they'd borrowed from the Briefs.  Jita shoved Jiten into Goten's lap, who was doing a last-minute roll call, gave the boy his breakfast, and strapped herself into pilot's seat and took off.  It wasn't but a few minutes when the noise of all the children cooped up in a plane started.  She sighed.  It was going to be a long flight.

                                                          *****

"Everyone stay together!" Jita shouted over the din.  It wasn't easy, though.  Not only did she have to keep up with thirty kis, keep a death grip on her son, make sure each person got to their respective preliminary matches, and find her family to leave Jiten with, she also had to yell over the noise of the crowd of warriors and spectators.  No, it was definitely not easy.

Doing what felt like the hundredth head count of the day, Jita and Goten quickly divided the students into junior and adult competitions.  Jita's youngest class of preteens grumbled.  They considered themselves above the babies that Goten taught, but the age limit was fourteen.  They couldn't compete as adults.

Goten herded the younger ones together, led by wide-eyed guide who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there.  "See ya in a bit," Goten said, giving Jita a peck on the cheek.

Jita smiled slightly, relieved to be rid of the younger ones.  She felt bad about leaving Goten with the biggest and most difficult group, but she didn't feel bad enough to take his place.  Now she only had to take care of ten, and five of them were her advanced class – old enough to take care of themselves.

"There they are!" Jita heard the familiar voice of Kakarrot.  She shook her head, truly thankful for the impossible turn of luck.  She turned around and spotted the very people she was looking for – Goku and Chichi, Vegeta and Bulma, and Gohan, Videl, and Pan.  Pan immediately joined her fellow students, giving her mom a quick hug.

"Looks like you had a rough morning," Chichi said, taking Jiten's hand from Jita.

"That's an understatement," Jita said wryly.  "I'm not sure if I'm going to survive today."  Then she crouched to eye level with Jiten.  "Now, I don't want you running off, Jiten.  You stay in the stands."

"Yes, mom," Jiten said grumpily, not even looking in her eyes.

Jita gave the boy a wary look, but conceded.  She would talk to him after the Budoukai.  Then, she would get everything straightened up with him.  It would all be fine.

"Don't worry," laughed Bulma.  "We won't let him out of our sight."

WILL ALL THE PARTICIPANTS FOR BOTH THE JUNIOR AND ADULT COMPETITIONS PLEASE REPORT TO YOUR RESPECTIVE PRELIMINARY RINGS

Jita surveyed her students.  "I guess that's us.  Pecon, go ahead and take everyone over there – to ring one.  I'll catch up."

Pecon nodded and they all walked on ahead.  Then Jita took Vegeta aside.  "Listen, brother, make sure you keep a sharp eye out on Jiten."

He looked at her quizzically.  "Why would you say that, child?"

"Because I…  I've just got a bad feeling, that's all."

Vegeta nodded.  "All right.  You'd better get to your students."

With that, the small group disappeared in the crowd, leaving Jita alone with her worries.  But not for long.  Jita quickly turned around and headed for the adult preliminaries.  She wasn't walking long, though.  Her students had apparently stopped not far ahead.

"Daddy!" Jita heard someone scream.  Thinking that she would have to tell a parent off, she ran ahead, trying not to push too many people out of the way.  When she could see clearly, a strange sight greeted her – Darjili was being picked up and hugged by a large bald older man with… three eyes?

Daddy.  Of course.  That would have to be Tien.  _I thought she said he wasn't coming, Jita thought._

"He changed his mind," a high-pitched voice came from behind her.

Jita turned and smiled slightly.  "Hello… Chosu?"

"It's Chaotzu," the small man replied.  "I'm sorry if this is holding up everything, but…"

"No need to worry," Jita dismissed the apology with a flick of her hand.  I'm glad that Tien is here."

Chaotzu smiled.  "Hey, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Jita said firmly, not wanting to bring up the circumstances under which she had met Chaotzu before.  Chaotzu seemed to understand her wishes, and backed off.

"I wish I could spend more time with you, Daddy, but I've really got to get to the preliminaries," Darjili said sadly.

"It's OK," Tien answered.  "I remember how the Budoukai is.  I'll be watching you up in the stands."

"Hello, Tien-san," Jita said respectfully, though the man was only two years her senior.  "I am Jita.  If you wish, I believe the one you call Son Goku is headed that way."  She pointed into the crowd.

Tien looked slightly taken aback.  Apparently he hadn't expected such politeness from Vegeta's sister.  "Thank you."  Then to Darjili, "I'll see you after the Budoukai.  Good luck."

"Thanks," Darjili called out excitedly behind her.  Jita smiled.  The girl was practically skipping.

As soon as the group got into the large room that the adult preliminaries were being held, Jita merely sat back and watched.  She was tired of taking care of everyone, and these could pretty much take care of themselves.  All they had to do was follow the referees' instructions.  

Despite stiff competition from many older warriors, she was pleased to watch Pan, Darjili, Pecon, Danton, Topela, and Kirk qualify for the semi-finals.  She was glad that senseis were now being allowed in with the warriors.  She wouldn't have missed the fight between Krianan and Pecon for the world.  And the fight between Videra and Darjili…  Jita started considering moving Videra up to the advanced class.  The fight had been extremely close.

The group walked out of the building, congratulating each other or bemoaning their own mistakes.  Up ahead she saw Goten struggling with a bunch of children and a gaggle of parents.  Finally allowing mercy for her bedraggled husband, she led her small group to join the rest of the Spider school.

"Ten of them got in," Goten greeted her excitedly.  "Pran, Sahn, Kiba, Teema, Link, Puririn, Palla, Toni, Tim, and Maurer."

"Good job," Jita said to the excited warrior children.  "The others that qualified are Pan, Darjili, Pecon, Danton, Topela, and Kirk."

There was a general cheering all around.  The older ones smiled, while Danton couldn't resist the urge to make a flashy bow, earning a hit on the back of the head from Pan.  Jita ignored this.  "Have all the parents come by?"

Goten nodded.  "Everyone, even Cinty's and Bo's parents.  They're going to spend a little time with their parents."

"That's great.  Speaking of parents… Darjili's father came."

Goten's eyes widened.  "Tien?  That's great!  Where is he?"

"Up in the stands with our family.  Great job, girls," Jita reassured Janice, Nikki, and Videra, whose parents were taking them away."

THE JUNIOR COMPETITION WILL BEGIN IN TEN MINUTES.  WILL ALL PARTICIPANTS PLEASE REPORT TO THE STADIUM WAITING ROOM.

"OK, guys, this is it!" Goten gathered up his students.

"We'll be watching in the stands," Jita yelled after them.  "All right, everyone," she said to her own students.  "We're going up in the stands to watch the junior competition.  As soon as that's over, I'm going to have to go do that… exhibition match… with Goten.  You can watch that in the stands, but as soon as it's over, leave and go directly to the stadium waiting room.  There's not a whole lot of time between the exhibition match and the adult competition.  Everyone understand?"

"Yes, sensei," came the collective response.

"Oh, there's my parents," Krianan said happily.  "Bye, Jita-sensei.  Bye, everyone.  See you tomorrow."  But before she left, she whispered to Darjili, "See?  I told you it would work out."

Darjili nodded and smiled.  She would have to believe Krianan's predictions from now on.

                                                            *****

Jiten sat next to Vegeta, fairly sulking as the junior competition stretched on.  He just knew he could beat everyone out there, if only he had the chance.  He'd tried to sneak away, but Vegeta had caught him before he'd gotten ten feet away.  _It just isn't fair_, he complained silently.  _I deserve to be out there._

_you deserve to be out there…_

Jiten shook his head violently.  He was getting tired of his imaginary friend, because he was getting a bit too old for it, and he knew it.  He just couldn't find a way to get rid of it.  It didn't occur to him that the voice wasn't imaginary.  He didn't know of anyone else who had a voice speak in his head.  Sure, the voice helped him out whenever he needed an excuse or a really good comeback, and it told him how to do lots of different techniques.  It even told him what other people were thinking sometimes, though not very often.  Just when it was useful.

But it also wouldn't leave him alone.  And it sometimes got him into more trouble than he bargained for.  And it was starting to get pretty bossy… telling him to do different things.  The thing was, Jiten was finding it harder to ignore the voice, and its orders.  The things it told him to do and say were getting more and more appealing.

Jiten sighed.  The voice helped him out, so it had to be friendly.  Maybe the voice knew what it was talking about.  Jiten sure hoped so.  He'd been listening and following the voice's advice for as long as he could remember.

_uncle vegeta and aunt bulma are having an argument.  now's your chance to give them the slip.  no one's looking.  just keep your head down and you can get into the stadium unnoticed_

_Thanks_, Jita thought to the voice.  Quietly, he slipped under the stands and was gone.

                                                                 *****

"And the junior world champion is… Kiba!"

The crowd burst into applause as the announcer Tint Rayban proclaimed the victory of the twelve-year-old girl.  Kiba was smiling wearily as she pulled her opponent, Puririn, to his feet.  Puririn grinned, glad to be in second place.  The two walked off the stage together, proud that they had just brought honor to themselves, their families, and the Spider School.

As soon as they entered the waiting are, they were smothered with hugs and congratulations.  Even a few who weren't from the Spider School joined in the celebration.  But the high point had to be the looks of approval they got from Jita.  Jita was slow to praise, so a simple 'good work' had more effect on the two, and all the other competitors, than any prize they could win.

Jita smiled as she watched each student walk away with their parents, even the most reserved talking a mile a minute in the excitement.  She almost regretted not having any of the younger classes, but she knew that she wouldn't feel that way once the adult competition started, and her own students started fighting.  She was glad that one of her own students – Kiba – had won.  She looked over at Goten and smirked.  No, she wouldn't let him live that down any time soon.

"Well, I guess it's our turn now," Goten said, waving goodbye to the last of the students leaving the waiting area.  Jita sighed in frustration.  Of course.  This stupid match.  _Well, she thought, __at least we'll have it out of the way so I can properly enjoy the adult competition._

The voice of the announcer reached them just as the two drew closer to the large sign in front of the entranceway to the ring.  "If you liked the kiddie group, wait'll you see the big dogs!  All righty, then!  But before we start the adult competition, we've got a special treat for you.  You've already seen what some of the students of the youngest attending dojo, the Spider School, can do.  Now you can see the Spider Masters themselves, in a match between husband and wife!  I've heard of lovers' quarrels, but this one takes the cake!"

Jita growled under her breath.  "Remind me again why we're doing this."

"Because we promised," Goten said wearily.  "Besides, we already said we're going to do this our way.  Things are going so great, so let's just keep it that way and go with the flow."

Jita smiled, and realized just how much she'd smiled recently.  Yes, things were going great.  Despite the minor annoyances, and the few niggling doubts about her son, she'd never felt happier in her entire life.  Taking her husband's hand, she walked out in the blinding sunshine to face him in the arena.

                                                                  *****

It was a good thing that a few people sitting around the Saiyan families in the stands had left, because the group just kept getting larger.  No only was Goku, Chichi, Gohan, Videl, Vegeta, and Bulma watching the fights, but Tien, Chaotzu, and Trunks had joined the group, along with the competitors for the adult tournament – Danton, Pecon, Pan, Darjili, Kirk, and Topela.  The older ones had begun to reminisce on past Budoukais, thoroughly entertaining the young students.

"…so it ended up being just a matter of who hit the ground first," Goku said cheerfully.  "I was about to win, but I hit a van first, so Tien won."

"But why didn't you try to fall in ring?" Pecon asked.

"I kind of blew it up," Tien laughed slightly.  "I could fly, and he couldn't, so…"

"Oh, look," Pan interrupted.  "The match is starting."

Interest in the stories of the 22nd Tenkaichi Budoukai died as the group watched Jita and Goten take the ring.  The cheers from the crowd were deafening.  Anticipation for this match had grown since the performance of Spider students in the junior competition.  Even from this distance everyone could see the cocky smirks of the two masters as they faced off, not even bothering to take a proper fighting stance.

The opening move was too fast for normal eyes to follow, but the next thing anyone knew, the two were grappling in close combat while slowly rising in the air.  Dust began to obscure the two fighters as they gradually powered up.  Knocking each other away, they shocked even more people – they powered up to Super Saiyan.

"I didn't know it was going to be that kind of battle," Gohan commented.

"Neither of them have ever been ones to pull their punches," Trunks grinned.  "Hey, Jiten, are you…"  He trailed off, not finding the kid anywhere.  "Hey, Dad.  Where's Jiten?"

Vegeta's head snapped around disbelievingly.  That little brat…  He'd given him the slip.  As the rest of the group began to realize what was going on, they searched among them.  He was nowhere to be seen.  Vegeta cursed under his breath.  Jita was going to kill him.  She'd warned him.  Of course, Vegeta thought she was worrying too much.  If she kept worrying about that kid all the time, Jiten was going to be the death of her.

Goku broke into the confusion with a laugh.  "That little rascal.  He's in the building over there," he pointed to the waiting area, "trying to hide his ki.  Something must have surprised him, because I felt his ki jump."

"I'll go get him," Pan volunteered.  "I see those two sparring all the time, anyway," Pan indicated the ring with a nod of her head.

"Don't be gone too long," Videl called after her.

                                                                    *****

Jita grinned in fierce determination.  Despite the agreement to make this a serious fight, the two were playing with each other.  Even in Super Saiyan form they weren't being very serious.  It wasn't that they were pulling their punches.  They weren't.  There was just no serious edge to the fight.  And Jita didn't want there to be.  She was having too much fun.

"Hey, you awake over there?" Goten taunted.  "I know how older people find they need more rest."

"As do small children," Jita retorted.  These were not new taunts.  They often joked about their technical age difference.  She dodged a few ki-blasts, all pointed safely to the sky.  "I'll be sure to get your strained peaches for lunch, if you're hungry."

"Just as long as you don't leave your dentures lying around."  Goten phased behind her and double-fisted her to the ground.  She lay still, so he landed in front of her, only to have her leg sweep under his feet.  He jumped… straight into one of Jita's fists, which cut his lip.  He grinned wiped the blood off, then looked up quickly to judge his next attack.

Jita saw the lapse, and took full advantage of it, coming at him with one of her fists again.  If this one hit him, she knew she'd never let him hear the end of it.  He, of course, caught the fist at the last minute, but something made her halt her plan of attack.

Goten was staring upward at a point behind Jita.  His eyes were wide, and his face bloodless.  "Jita," he said in a strangled whisper.  "Look."

The cheering crowd had gone silent, and even the dedicated announcer had halted his commentary.  It was so quiet, in fact, that Jita could hear a low chuckle behind her.  The dread that had hung in the back of her mind finally took shape as she turned around and looked up.  

There was a tall man with silvery hair floating several feet in the air, wearing a strange type of leather armor.  He looked to have many holsters for weapons, all of which were empty.  The man did have a weapon though – a long, wicked-looking knife, just short of being a sword, with an ornate handle and beautiful etchings on the blade.  Jita was not admiring the weapon, though.  She wasn't even trying to get the measure on this strange personage who was floating above the Tenkaichi Budoukai arena.  She was focused on one thing, and one thing alone.

That knife was but a few centimeter's away from the throat of her son.

"Jiten," she whispered.  There was a rush of air as Jita and Goten started in tandem to the grinning man, but the second they moved, the sharp smell of blood tinged the air.  Good as their eyesight was, they hadn't been able to see the knife move from Jiten's throat to make a shallow cut on his arm.  It was far from fatal, but it was enough to make the two freeze in their tracks.

"I – I didn't even see the blade move," Goten stammered.

But Jita was already working on strategy, desperation bringing a sort of calm upon her.  "I'll teleport behind him and hold him.  That should take care of the knife.  Then you get Jiten."

Before the words were out of her mouth, Jita had disappeared and reappeared behind the man.  She grabbed for him, only to come up with handfuls of air, and then a punch to the stomach that sent her flying to the ground.

"I'd suggest you power up a bit more."

The voice of the man reminded her instantly of slime.  She wasn't sure how a sound could resemble a substance so much, but she'd come to appreciate the power in a voice.  This voice was dripping so in slimy power that she felt drenched in it from a single sentence.  Her stomach lurched at the thought of the owner of that voice holding her son in his arms.

Jita joined Goten in powering up, both reaching the limits of level two.  Jita was still worried.  Jiten was unconscious – all his defenses were down.  That knife would cut into him just as easily as it would a human child.  Jita raged at the thought, looked into Goten's eyes, and knew he was feeling the same.

"Perhaps if I got rid of this pesky knife," the man said, "you would stand a chance.  I'm getting frightfully bored just standing here waiting for you to decide to attack."  The man put the knife in its holster, looking down.  That was as much of an opening the two Saiyans needed.

The two attacked together, each going for a side.  Attacking was difficult while trying to avoid hurting Jiten, but it wasn't impossible.  Goten managed a blow to the head, while Jita repaid him for the punch to her stomach.  While the man maintained his death-grip on the boy, he was certainly feeling those attacks.  He grunted in pain, unable to dodge as the two went through another set of attacks.

Goten grinned.  There was nothing to worry about.  The man – whoever this man was – had made a fatal mistake in giving them the opportunity to attack.  They were definitely more than his match in power.  He was going to lose, and then they'd possibly question him before killing him.  He'd certainly pay for threatening Jiten.

But why was he laughing?

"Goten, stop," he heard Jita say.  She had halted all her attacks and was backing away slowly.  Confused, he pushed another attack.

"I think you should listen to your wife," the man taunted, looking none the worse for wear from all the blows he'd suffered.

Goten backed up, noticing for the first time.  He cursed himself for being so cocky.  He should've known there was more cause for the strange man's confidence.

"As you've finally noticed," the man continued, "I'm not the only one suffering from your attacks."  The man pointed to his own split lip, and then pointed to a cut on Jiten's lip, mirroring his own.

"How could you…" Jita started disbelievingly.

"It's a spell, binding the boy to me.  It's simple.  I hurt – he hurts.  I die – he dies.  He feels every pinprick that I feel.  It hardly goes the other way, but it doesn't have to."  The man pulled Jiten closer to him and smoothed the boy's hair.  

Jita's mind screamed in violent frustration.  She fairly shook with it, but she couldn't find a way to channel it.  _Stall_, she told herself.  _Just stall._  "Who are you?" she growled, amazed that her throat was even working.  "What do you want with our son?"

The man chuckled and shook his head.  "Oh, I've been watching this little one for quite a while.  Let's just say he has potential – a certain je ne sais quoi.  It's just what I need.  I'd take you, of course, Jita, but you're a bit old.  I like 'em young.  Oh, and do stop trying to break the barrier, you tiresome Saiyans.  It's linked to the boy as well, so you're doing more harm than good."

For the first time Jita noticed the dull shimmering of a ki barrier surrounding the ring, the summit of the dome reaching a few feet above the man's head.  The ripples that were coursing through it abruptly stopped as the Saiyans on the other side of the barrier ceased their attempts to cut through.  All of them – Goku, Vegeta, Gohan, and Trunks – looked pissed enough to spit nails.

"So now that you've shielded yourself and blocked us in," Goten spat out, "what the hell do you plan on doing?"

"Always cutting to the heart of the matter, Goten," the man laughed.  "I like that.  Pertinent question, too.  What do I plan on doing?  I'm afraid, though, you won't be alive long enough to be interested in my long-term goals, so let's just, oh, cut to the heart."

The blow seemed to come from out of nowhere.  It didn't have the power to do too much damage to Goten, but it was certainly unexpected.  Goten took it, and forced himself not to counterattack.  He had never felt such rage and frustration in his entire life.  All he could do was dodge.

Jita tried to use the opportunity to snatch Jiten from the slimy man's arms, but what the man lacked in power, he made up in speed.  He turned on her without missing a beat in his attack on Goten.

Needing to keep both of the Saiyan parents busy, the man switched to purely ki attacks, only moving to change he direction and orientation of each burst of energy.  Jita hissed in pain as she was a split-second late in dodging one blast.  While his physical attacks had not been all that powerful at all, his ki attacks were fairly deadly, and more abundant than Jita ever would have guessed.  And vaguely familiar, for that matter…

"That's Jiten's ki," she heard Gohan gasp.

Jita's eyes widened, then narrowed.  So, he was using the boy's energy.  Well, two could play at that game.  Letting Goten keep the man's attention for the moment, Jita began manipulating the bits of ki within the confines of the man's ki barrier.  Starting behind him and gradually working around, she weaved a ki barrier around the man, careful to move the ki with his movements.  It wasn't easy.  His speed was unbelievable.  Little by little, constantly reminding herself to have patience, she perfected and strengthened the barrier.  Almost there, she thought.  This is actually going to work…

Jita was thrown back suddenly as she felt some of the ki she'd been manipulating slam into her, knocking her off her feet.  She looked over at Goten, and realized that the man had forced most of her ki barrier to him.  Goten was lying flat on his back, stunned for the moment.

The slimy man began a slow clap, maneuvering his hands around Jiten's small body.  "I must say, I'm impressed.  You adapted well to a very different kind of fight.  It probably would have worked, too, if I hadn't been waiting for you to try that.  Who do you think I learned the art of ki barriers from?  Ever since I found out about you, I've been watching you and your spawn.  I must say it was educational.  But you know what they say about good times, don't you?"

Jita's fists were clenched and shaking.  Tears were leaking unbidden out of her eyes.  All the ki tricks and training in the world couldn't save her and couldn't save her son.  She was useless, and alone, and a failure, and…

YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS DAY WAS COMING.  SEE YA IN A FEW MINUTES.

The ki blasts came, and Jita dodged, but there was no fire in the fight.  For once, her eyes reflected the state of her soul – vacant and dead.  She was going on pure reflex, just out of habit.  She recalled what she'd taught her students – that a fighter without hope is doomed from the beginning.  Well, this would be an objective lesson.  _Don't be like me, she thought._

As her reflexes failed and she was enveloped in a searing green light, and she heard the scream of her husband, her last conscious thought was, _Poor Goten.  I hope he forgets me._.

The man turned around to the screams and exclamations of surprise and grief.  The loudest, of course, was the newly widowed demi-Saiyan within the barrier.  He chuckled at the comical surprised expressions all around him.  _You'd think they'd never seen anyone die before_.  He adjusted the boy in his arms and waited, savoring his recent kill.

_She's gone._

Goten had awakened just in time to watch the beam of light and ki bear down on his beloved Jita, wiping her from existence.

_She's gone._

Goten vaguely heard the shouted threats his family threw at Jita's killer.  He could see their mouths moving, but no sound reached him.  No sound that wasn't drowned out by the painful thumping of his heart and the sly chuckle of the abomination that stood before him.

_She's gone._

The monstrosity that had sent his wife to hell, from which she could not be retrieved.  The thing that even now held his son.  

His wife… his son…

Something within Goten snapped, sounding for all the world like breaking crystal.  His power flared wildly, bringing him to the barriers of level two, and then exploded as the level three transformation overtook him.  An inhuman scream of fury echoed through the air, threatening to shatter the barrier around them – and threatening the life of his son.  

But Goten could no longer reason.  He had shed everything that made him human.  If he'd ever gone through the Oozaru transformation, he would have recognized it as such.  As it was, all he could comprehend was the desire to kill the thing before him.  He couldn't even hear the cries of warning from his family.  He was completely out of control, and there was no hope for return.

In a burst of fury, Goten charged.  He had no attacks planned, and there was no grace in his style.  He just flew at the man, screaming an unearthly scream.

_kill kill kill_ _kill__ kill kill **_kill_****_ kill kill kill_ ******__KILL****__ KILL KILL KILL KILL_

**Thunk******

            "Cutting to the heart…" the man whispered in Goten's ear.

The world snapped back into focus just in time for it to fade again.  Goten looked into the man's eyes, and knew from the triumph he found in there.  Cautiously, his hand found his chest, his gi becoming soaked with blood and the handle of a knife sticking out from its new sheath.

Goten's eyes widened in slight surprise.  He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came forth was a shallow cough.  Blood spattered the boy in the killer's arms.  Goten reached out, desperate to retrieve his son, but at that moment the death-agony overtook him.  Without a sound, Goten fell from the sky, reverting back to normal form just as he hit the ground.  A black cloud overtook him, and Goten knew no more.

                                                     *****

Ears filling with the screams of grief, Vegeta did not join in.  He was in too much shock, and too… angry.  He wanted to tear that creature limb from limb.  They were gone.  Jita was…

He floated beside Goku, whose face had become bloodless as he watched his son fall.  Goku was practically growling in pent-up rage.  Vegeta understood.  They'd tried everything short of fusing to get in that barrier, but nothing had worked.  Goku dropped the two fingers that had remained forgotten on his forehead.  Teleporting through the barrier had failed.  And even if it had succeeded, they couldn't raise a hand against the man.  Not with Jiten linked to him.

The man floated over to face the Saiyans, but addressed Goku and Vegeta in particular.  "Strongest in the universe…  Helpless to do something so simple as save a little boy.  I must say, I'm disappointed."

Goku snarled.  "Stop hiding behind Jiten then, if you want a fight.  Believe me, I'll give you a fight."

The man nodded.  "All right, it's a deal.  But not now.  I'll allow you to prepare, while you allow me to prepare.  Let's say… one year?  That should be enough."  He hugged Jiten closer to him.  "Oh, and since the boy has been untimely orphaned – so unfortunate – I think I'll take him with me."  The man shed his whimsical air.  "One year, don't forget.  I'll definitely be stronger, so I suggest you muster all the power you can.  Then we'll see who's the strongest in the universe."

With that, the man vanished.

Goku swooped down as soon as the ki barrier dissolved.  As the others searched around for any sign of the man, Goku landed next to Goten's prone form, touched him, and immediately teleported away.  The chaotic Budoukai ring dissolved before Goku's eyes, and reappeared to reveal Kami's Lookout.

"Dende!" he screamed, his voice holding a rare note of panic.  He ran to the other side, pushing past a shocked Mr. Popo.

"I'm here, Goku," the young kami spoke up.

"Dende, I need you to…"

"I'm afraid it's too late, Son," the low voice of Piccolo interrupted.  "He's gone."

Goku whirled around.  Where Goten had once been lying on the white tile of the Lookout, now only a shallow pool of blood and a knife remained.  Goten had disappeared.


	36. Grief

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**:  Wow.  I am extremely pleased with the response I got for that last chapter.  I mean, that's what I've been looking forward to.  This is what I've been building up to all these months, and had to force myself to slow down and take my time.  Let me tell you, it just gets better from here.  I couldn't help but laugh evilly at all your reactions.  I felt ready to get this chapter out really quick… and then it hit.  I was BUSY.  I really should be doing something else right now, but this chapter has been staring at me for weeks.  And I want to move the story along.  I've gotten the necessary, though admittedly rewarding, transitional phase over, and now I'm into the fun.  Now, I'm not going to comment on this chapter just yet.  You'll have to read it and see.

**Chapter 35: Grief**

"Wh-what just happened?" Trunks asked in a shaky voice.

Vegeta refused to answer.  He was no stranger to death, but this had momentarily overridden his senses.  All he could see was his sister disintegrating in a flash of green light, replaying over and over in his mind.  _That didn't just happen.  That didn't just happen._

"I-I can't feel them," Trunks continued, oblivious to the lack of attention he was getting.  "I can't feel them at all.  Goten… Jita… Jiten…  They're gone."

Gohan inhaled sharply, his bloodless face meeting Trunks'.  "You're sure, Trunks?  You can't feel Goten?"

Trunks gulped and shook his head, biting his lips to keep from screaming in grief.  They'd been right there.  And then they were gone.  No warning.  No noble speeches.  Not even a quick glance of goodbye.  Just… nothing.

The once highly organized and happily hectic Budoukai was in shambles.  The air was filled with flying children, all students of the Spider School.  All screaming for their teachers' killer to come out.  All delirious with shock and grief.  All just as worthless as the infinitely more powerful and just as grief-stricken Saiyans that had landed in the grassy outskirts of the ring.

A sharp wail rose over the crowd, above the shouts of the children who had begun to land and gather in a group.  Vegeta looked up, startled by the sound of grief when he was working so hard to repress such shows of emotion, hoping the sound had not emitted from his own throat.  But no… it had come from the stands, and was hard to miss, since the surrounding spectators were craning their heads to get a better glimpse of the source of that heart-rending sound.  Vegeta wasn't surprised to see that it was coming from the area of the stands he'd just left, and the cry had come from a newly bereft mother – Chichi.  Even if he was in the practice of feeling sympathy for other people, which he wasn't and never had been, he still couldn't now.  His brain just couldn't function at that level.  The shock was too much to take.

"PAPA!"

Out of the waiting area of the arena came a bruised, limping Pan, pushing her way easily through the law enforcement that had already begun to gather.  She ran to Gohan before he could react, her eyes scanning the area fearfully, unfocused.  "I – Papa – I – Jiten was kidnapped!  I tried to stop it, but the man was too fast and too strong and –"

Gohan put a hand on her shoulder, instantly silencing her as she dissolved into tears.  Just as she'd been taught, Pan began to search for everyone's ki, making sure all was all right.  The three missing kis brought her further into misery.  She knew this wasn't just suppression.  They were all gone.

"What do we do now?" Trunks asked, again meeting with futility as he searched for Goten and Jita's killer.

Vegeta partially regained his senses at the question.  At the moment, Kakarrot was at Kami's Lookout.  And if there were any resources for finding the – whatever it was – that had killed Jita and Goten and kidnapped Jiten, it would be at Kami's Lookout.  Motioning with a head jerk for the others to follow, he took off in the sanctuary's direction.  Understanding, Trunks, Gohan, and Pan followed.

The eyes of the Spider students followed the Saiyans' departure.  Low and angry moans came from within the group as the full weight of what just happened pressed in on them.  And now they had no one to turn to.  No leadership.  No kind and concerned Goten to listen to their grief.  No strict and exacting Jita to tell them what to do.  No one…

"Right," Pecon said, breaking the stunned and grief-stricken silence with sudden determination.  "You all go back to your parents."  He waved off the shocked protests.  "Don't worry.  I'm going to follow them and find out more of what's going on.  Remember, people have been raised from the dead before.  So…" he paused, gulping as he realized what his pain had driven him to do – to get in front and make order like some kind of leader, "I'll let all of you know."

He rose in the air, keeping his ki-sense carefully trained on the swiftly departing Saiyans.  He would probably arrive far behind them – they were moving so fast that they must have been going at top speed – but he didn't care.  They were the only ones who knew even a little of what was going on, so he took off after them, not even looking back at the other students.  _Now if I could just be as hopeful as I sounded back there, he thought grimly, tears stinging his eyes._

                                                        *****

Goten opened his eyes, his brain fuzzy at first, but then the past few – _minutes? hours?_ – came back to his mind.  His hands quickly felt for his chest, and he was both relieved and horrified to find that it was whole again.  Relieved because no one likes a big gaping chest wound.  Horrified because he couldn't remember any senzu or any other healing.  A quick hand above his head confirmed his fear.

"I'm dead."

"You ain't just whistlin' Dixie," a booming voice came from above.

Goten's eyes shot up to meet the gargantuan demon, clad in a conservative business suit.  He remembered the man vaguely from his childhood – from his previous death.

"Enma-sama?" He called up, his voice cracking from the shock and the absurdity of his situation.

The giant rumbled in laughter.  "I'm sorry, but I've been watching a bit too much Bugs Bunny.  It's been slow lately.  The universe has become extremely peaceful, and life-prolonging medicine is improving all over…" Enma broke off in a frustrated sigh.  "Don't they know we have quotas to meet?" he said exasperatedly to no one in particular.  Large sweatdrops appeared on Goten and many of the other demons.  The smaller demons had pretty much given up telling Enma that it was rude to speak so flippantly about death around newly deceased mortals.

Enma, noting the others' discomfiture, cleared his throat and began shuffling papers again.  "Erm – yes – Son Goten… looks like you're scheduled to go to the Grand Kai's planet for some training – at least until you get resurrected again," he added with more exasperation.  "I'm telling you, you Earth people are sometimes more trouble than you're worth.  I've just had to make separate files for all of you…"

"Oh, there you are!"

Goten had been zoning out as the tirade began, but his attention was grabbed by the sudden exclamation behind him.  Stumbling and gasping in exertion, with little of the dignity that his title implied, the blue catfish-like North Kai pushed past a few office demons, stopping in front of Goten.  He tried to speak further, but his breathing was too hard.  The blue god bent over, hands on his knees, and let out loud pained gasps.  Then, realizing his ungodlike behavior, he straightened and looked up at Goten.

"Greetings, Goten," King Kai began with all the dignity he could muster.  It was especially difficult with the monkey that seemed to be playing a one-ended game of leap-frog with him.  As soon as the kai produced a large wooden mallet, the monkey shied away.  "I am Kaio-sama, guardian of the North galaxy.  Perhaps your father has told you about me?"

Goten frowned, still off-balance.  "H-he told me that you told really corny jokes."

King Kai's pleasant face turned from blue to red.  "MY JOKES ARE NOT CORNY!" he yelled in Goten's face.  Then he seemed to regain his composure a bit.  "Goku just doesn't have a sense of humor, that's all," he said defensively.

"HAHAHA," Enma's booming voice came from above.  "That's one way of looking at it."

King Kai glared up at the big red demon, who, despite the definite difference in size, shrank back a bit.  "You can be replaced, you know.  Besides, I won Grand Kai's Galactic Stand-up Contest, so I'm the best."

"Yeah," a strange floating cricket screeched behind King Kai.  "At standing up."

"_What is wrong with you people?!" Goten screamed.  "How can you be joking when I just died and my wife just died and my son was taken…"  Goten sank to his knees, the situation crashing in on him.  He'd failed in protecting his wife and son.  He knew Jiten wasn't dead, since he'd have seen Jiten, but who knew where Jiten had been taken.  And Jita…_

Calming himself, Goten looked up at Enma.  "What happened to Jita?  I know she died; I saw her disintegrate.  So where is she?"

Enma, used to such outbursts from the recently deceased, began shuffling through his files.  At least, until the name Goten had said registered in his brain.  "Jita?  You mean, your wife's name is Jita?  The Saiyan?"

Goten opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.  Instead, he simply nodded.

Enma shook his head in sympathy.  "I'm sorry, but there was nothing anyone could do.  There was a prior claim on her soul, so none of her actions in life counted.  She was not mine to judge."

Realizing that the young man was still kneeling on the floor, King Kai pulled Goten up.  "I know it's hard," he began solemnly, forgetting the light mood from before, "but you looked like you knew this was coming.  I've checked up on Earth now and then, and you gave Jita a good life, while she had it."

Enma nodded.  "If it means anything to you, she went willingly.  No tears, no protests, no threats of violence… she just went on her own."

Goten drew out of his daze.  "Forgive me, Enma-sama, but that doesn't comfort me at all," he answered quietly.

Wanting to get Goten away from the staring crowds and give him some time alone, King Kai began to pull the Saiyan toward the hangar deck to go to the Grand Kai's planet.  "Come on.  You can train until you get wished back to life.  That always cheered your father up."

Goten's head jerked up, and a small smile began to form.  "Yeah…" he said slowly.  "I think I'd like that.  Only…"

"Yes?" King Kai asked, completely missing the calculating look Goten was giving him.

"I'm sorry," Goten said, giving a forced laugh and scratching the back of his head, trying his darndest to look as carefree as his father.  "It's just… I may not be dead for long, and Dad told me some stories about Snake Way, and I just wanted to see it this time around.  I wasn't dead long enough last time to take in the sights."

King Kai sighed, not liking to waste time.  But he felt sympathy for the warrior who had just recently lost so much, and wanted to preserve any happiness the young man could find.  He started leading Goten toward the road that had used to lead to his home.  "Of course you can see it!  If I could tell you how many times I've walked down this road…"

Within minutes, King Kai lecturing and reminiscing the entire way, they were there.  Goten folded his arms, surveying the snake-mouth entrance and a seeming endless stretch of winding road suspended over an expanse of golden clouds.

"… but I just don't get why you would want to see it," Goten tuned King Kai back in.  "It's just a road, and the planet at the very end of it is, well, gone."

Goten walked a few steps past the entrance and onto the actual road.  "So this used to lead to your planet.  And down there…" he squatted to stare downward into the depths of the golden clouds.  "That's where Hell is?"

King Kai cleared his throat.  "Yes, that's right.  Goku could attest to that; he took a spill and landed there when he was first coming to see me.  He had to start all over again, and then he was held up by Princess Snake.  She lives at the midpoint of Snake Way.  But you wouldn't want to visit her.  When she invites you to dinner, she REALLY invites you to dinner!"  King Kai ended with a snorting laugh, not really expecting a response from the young Saiyan.

"But down there," Goten interrupted the kai's amusement, "Since that's where Hell is, then that's where my wife is."

King Kai's head cocked with confusion.  Well, I guess, but…"

Goten took one last look at King Kai, a look that almost resembled an apology, and jumped off the road, falling into the golden abyss.

                                                            *****

Bulma stared straight ahead, her mouth pressed in a fine white line and vision sparkling and swimming with tears, making it difficult to pilot the plane.  But she wouldn't dare give the controls up to someone else.  Then she wouldn't have anything to do, and she needed to have something to do.  Either that, or just break down.

_I hate this.  I hate fighting.  I hate these stupid muscle-headed villains who come and make life miserable for my stupid muscle-headed friends and family.  Why can't they just leave us alone?  Why can't…_

Bulma's thoughts broke off as she abruptly flew to higher altitudes to avoid a mountain range.  She felt bad for thinking such bitter thoughts.  She wasn't suffering the worst from loss by far.  It was just… she'd seen Vegeta at the barrier, trying to break through it like a madman.  She knew by the way he'd whipped around – the way he'd carried himself – he was feeling far worse than she ever could.

_But why did it have to be Goten?  And Jita, of all people?  Haven't they been through enough?  I mean, they've barely lived.  And Jiten…_

Bulma could hear the low, halting rumble of awkward conversation in the back of the airplane.  When Vegeta, Gohan, Trunks, and Pan had flown off, followed by Pecon and Darjili, Bulma had taken charge.  As soon as Tien had read Goku's ki at Kami's Lookout, Bulma ushered everyone into a plane and set a course for the familiar sanctuary.  She didn't actually like going there.  The air was too thin, the gravity was too light, and she couldn't remember if she'd replenished her stores of oxygen pills since the Buu incident.  But it was where all the Saiyans were going, and Bulma wanted to know what was going on.  They all wanted to know what was going on.

Hearing some glasses clink, Bulma hazarded a glance behind her.  Videl was trying to serve everyone tea, taking Chichi's usual job.  Chichi, for her part, was sitting ramrod straight in her chair, her fists clenching and unclenching convulsively around a tissue.  Her first outburst had quickly subsided, and now she was just staring blankly forward, not acknowledging any attempt at conversation or sympathy.  Not that many such attempts were made.

Not long after they'd been underway than they'd caught up to the two Spider students Darjili and Pecon, convincing them that it might even be faster to ride in the plane rather than fly.  Although Pecon had seemed reluctant about this arrangement, not really knowing Bulma or anyone else in the plane, Darjili had willingly given in the Bulma's request when she saw her father in the plane.  Now, next to her father, Darjili felt like she could break down a little.  Tien was holding his daughter.  Bulma's face softened to a slight smile at the sight.  Tien was patting the weeping girl awkwardly on the back, clearly not used to physical affection.  But at least he was making the effort.  Unbidden, images of Vegeta's first rare attempts at affection surfaced in Bulma's brain.  Bulma almost laughed at the thought.  _Well, at least Jita was a little better at it…_

_Oh, yeah.  Jita._

Pecon was sitting on the floor away from everyone else.  No tears fell from his face, though he looked completely miserable nonetheless.  His eyes looked like they'd been frozen wide open, and his skin was an unhealthy pale, making an extreme contrast with the incense burns on his forehead.  But his fists were clenched, and his lips looked clamped together, as if he was forcing himself to stay strong.

_It may seem hopeless now_, Bulma thought, feeling that for once it was inappropriate to speak of such things aloud, _but we always have the dragonballs.  Neither Jita nor Goten have been revived with the Earth set of dragonballs, so it should be easy enough.  In fact, she continued a little more brightly, __we can probably revive them with the same wish, and have one left over to wish Jiten from wherever he is, or at least to find out where he is.  Yeah, it should be all right._

_Everything should be fine…_

                                                        *****

Goku stood at the edge of the Lookout, waiting.  Piccolo and Mr. Popo wisely left him alone.  That was alright.  Goku really didn't feel like talking right then.

Of course he noticed the various approaching kis.  He also knew that he could make things go a little fast if he'd meet everyone and teleport them all to the Lookout – both the group of flying Saiyans and the plane full of humans.  Of course he realized this.  But he just didn't feel like teleporting.

What he felt like doing was something he'd never EVER done before.  He felt like crying.  It was strange.  The man had gone through battle after hardship after death, and nearly ever family crisis in between, but he had never cried.  It's just… something he'd never felt comfortable doing.  It was something for people who couldn't fight out their problems, and Goku had never had a problem that he couldn't fight out.

But now there was no one to fight.  The guy had disappeared, and all Goku could do was just…

… Goku couldn't really do anything.

Goku sighed, numbly keep dibs on everyone's progress to the Lookout.  Every ki was as unbalanced as he knew his was.  He'd hoped to have some answers before anyone got there, but it didn't look like it would happen.  Dende hadn't gotten back from the Otherworld yet, where he'd gone to gather information about the killer.  Goku considered teleporting to the Otherworld to check on some of his own sources, but he was technically not supposed to be in the Otherworld.  He'd found that out not long after he'd been revived, when he'd tried to find Pikkon for a sparring match.  Not that he cared about rules, it was just…

He didn't want to see Goten standing there with a halo over his head.  Cause then, he'd know that the boy was truly dead.

"Kakarrot."

Goku turned at the hoarse utterance, a bit too hoarse for the speaker, and just stared at the newly arrived Saiyans.  

"Goten is dead," he said unnecessarily.

After that announcement, a tense silence filled the air, awkwardly pronounced by Pan's sniffles.  No one knew what to say.  Uncomfortable, Goku went back to staring blankly at the horizon.  After waiting so intently for the others' arrival, it seemed a bit anti-climatic.  Only Pan made a move to go to her grandfather, but Gohan restrained her with a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head slowly, wearily.

Piccolo walked over to Gohan, Pan, Trunks, and Vegeta, knowing why they had come.  "Dende has gone to the Otherworld to look into that strange warrior," Piccolo said lowly, without overture.  There was no need for one.  "He should be back any minute."

Only Gohan nodded.  The rest merely found a place to wait.

While Trunks and Gohan talked quietly to each other, with Pan standing silently near them, Vegeta leaned against a wall and crossed his arms.  In contrast to the tense Goku standing at the edge of the Lookout, Vegeta slouched, seeming to have the energy drained out of him.  It was all…  He'd seen Jita die… again.  Before it had been hard.  It had nearly torn his soul out.  But he'd survived out of necessity.  Everything about him back then had been geared solely for survival, including the numbing of feelings that preserved his sanity.  But this time… he'd grown too used to her.  He felt he had to break down, but…

"So, did you recognize him?"

Vegeta looked up at the Namek, wondering about Piccolo's motivation for talking to him.  Was it merely curiosity, or was it… concern?

"I would have mentioned earlier if I had recognized him," Vegeta spat out.  Still, he was actually glad for the distraction.  "He obviously didn't use a spaceship," he began to theorize, "so he couldn't be any normal space-going person.  He could teleport, and to places that we can't sense him, unless he's doing a phenomenal job of hiding his ki.  It couldn't be anywhere in the Afterlife, because Kakarrot would have sensed him.  So, it could be other dimensions, such as the one Kaioshin mentioned when he talked about Daburah, or possibly another timeline."

"I can look into temporal anomalies on or near Earth," Trunks cut in, overhearing his father's train of thought.  "Maybe we can find a portal that way.  And even if it isn't temporal, and more spatial, I think it would be a similar type of reading, and portal.  I can get Mom to work on that.  She knows more about that stuff than I do."

"In the meantime, of course," Gohan picked up, "we can collect the Dragonballs just in case.  I'm sure they'll come in handy.  Hey, maybe we can even wish Jiten to Earth, or something.  And then, if that warrior comes back to get Jiten, we'll be prepared for him."

Piccolo cleared his throat.  "Right now we need to wait for Dende.  He's our surest source for information right now.  Then we can go from there."

The idea-charged mood died down at this, and the group lapsed into uncomfortable silence yet again.  Piccolo growled softly.  What was taking Dende so long, anyway?

In the timeless atmosphere of Kami's Lookout, no one really knew how long they waited.  For some it felt like hours, and others, only minutes.  Time passed, however, and finally Dende appeared, gripping his knotty wooden staff and looking the grimmest he'd even been in ages.

Everyone broke out of their reveries, intent on receiving news.  Dende was about to speak when, at that moment, the plane finally arrived at the Lookout.

A solemn group filed out of the plane, Bulma capsulizing the vehicle as soon as it was emptied.  Darjili and Pecon automatically walked over to their fellow student Pan, both uncomfortable in the unfamiliar place, especially since Tien had told them that it was literally the dwelling of god.  Both Bulma and Videl stayed together, no sure of what to say or what to do.  Tien and Chaotzu went to the edges of the group, feeling much the same.

The group anxiously watched Chichi as she wandered a bit, looking lost and confused.  Finally her eyes found her husband, who was still standing at the edge of the Lookout, his back to the others, staring off in the horizon.  It was like he hadn't even noticed the recent arrivals.  Chichi walked slowly to him, and touched his shoulder.  He jumped slightly at the touch, and turned around.  While her face was slightly blotchy from tears, his was an unhealthy white.  

After a few minutes of merely staring at each other, Chichi sighed deeply and put her arms around Goku, laying her head on his chest.  His eyes widened in surprise.  He'd been expecting loud cries or curses that he hadn't been able to prevent the death of their son or… something.  Finally, ever so slowly, he relaxed in her embrace, and even patted the back of her head a couple of times in awkwardly affectionate movements.  Those who were watching looked away, overcome by the scene.  Chichi pulled away from Goku, feeling just the tiniest bit better.  At least he was here.

"What did you find out?" Piccolo asked Dende.  He knew the deaths of the young couple was pretty hard to bear, but there was still a child out there suffering not even Kami knows what.

Dende shifted a bit when all the attention focused on him.  "Um… There weren't many sources in the Afterlife, but I found out enough.  Jiten was kidnapped by a Leech."

Everyone turned to Vegeta when they heard him take a sharp intake of air.  "But… that's impossible," Vegeta said harshly.  "There hasn't been a Leech alive in ten thousand years."

"I thought you said you didn't recognize the creature," Piccolo pointed out.

Vegeta snorted.  "I only know about them from legends.  There is a myth that the Legendary Super Saiyan killed a Leech, but paid for it with his life.  The book I read it from didn't have a picture."

Gohan started.  "Yeah, I read that book too.  It was in with the pile that I got from J—"  He stopped suddenly, as if the name would burn his tongue.

"Even if it had," Dende continued, "it wouldn't have helped.  Leeches aren't a race all to themselves.  Anyone can become a Leech, so appearance varies greatly.  The thing they DO have in common is the ability to drain people's power, and an insatiable thirst to do just that."

"So is that what he wants with Jiten?" Trunks asked.  "Then why did he leave?  He could have drained all our powers, if there was no way to stop him.  And why didn't he do that to… Goten and Jita… instead of killing them?"

Dende cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts.  "There is one requirement that the Leech must meet before he gains his ability.  He must have an acolyte – a devoted follower that is powerful in his or her own right.  That thing, where no one could hurt the Leech without hurting Jiten, must have been the first stage in the plan.  And I think he killed Goten and Jita to make an impression on us, so everyone would train to beat him and therefore get stronger.  More energy for him to absorb."

"So he wants to get Jiten on his side?" Bulma said incredulously.  "That's impossible.  He's too good a kid.  Jiten will never…"

Her voice trailed off at the looks she received.  She frowned slightly.  Jiten was NOT such a good kid, and anyone can be corrupted at so young an age.  After all, Vegeta was only five…  And what a coincidence that the child who looked so much like Vegeta could have something happen to him like this.

"So where is he?" Goku said in a strangled voice, speaking for the first time since he'd pronounced his son's death.  "I can find him if I know where to look."

Dende bowed his head, reluctantly saying the hardest thing he'd had to say yet.  "He's… unreachable.  By any means.  He's in another dimension that is only open to a Leech and his acolyte.  The entrance is untraceable and impossible to enter.  We'll… just have to wait a year until the Leech returns."

Trunks cursed.  "By then he'll be able to absorb our power.  That's not something you can fight against."

"Is there…" Pecon spoke up, but quickly clammed up, his throat constricting as soon as everyone turned to him.  The vast amount of power and experience made him feel little more than nothing.

"Go on," Piccolo nodded to the boy encouragingly.

Pecon gulped and continued.  "Is there a limit to how much energy the Leech can absorb?  What if he absorbs too much too quickly?  That could give you the advantage if he tries to absorb everyone.

Dende nodded.  "He DOES need time to adjust to each new power level, just like anyone else, but that resting period can be as short as a matter of minutes."

"And the more he absorbs," Gohan continued, "the more difficult defeating him will be.  Looks like we'll need all the help we can get on this one."

Goku had brightened just the slightest.  "That's right!  We still haven't talked about gathering the Dragonballs."

Trunks grinned.  "Oh yeah!  I forgot that Goten and Jita haven't been revived by Shenlong.  It was Porunga that brought us back."

"The Dragonballs," Chichi said forcefully.  "Of course!  It's just been so long, that I almost forgot about them."

The atmosphere at the Lookout began to improve tenfold with all the planning and hopes, as well as the prospect of reviving the recently deceased couple.  It was the easiest thing in the world to gather those Dragonballs and wish two people back to life.  Those two would certainly be needed in the coming war with the Leech.

"They might want to train in the Afterlife, of course," Goku said cheerfully, his grief forgotten.  "They're probably with King Kai.  I'll have to ask when they want to be revived.  They can train on the Grand Kai's planet better than they can on Earth, so they'll probably want to stay dead for a little while.  But before the Leech comes next year, we can revive Goten and Jita—"

"No we can't!"

Vegeta pushed himself off the wall, and was standing there, shaking with… rage? grief?  No one could really tell, the two emotions could be so intertwined within the man.  Needless to say, the happiness that had been spreading to everyone had not affected him.

"What's wrong, Dad?" Trunks said quietly.  "Why can't we revive them?"

Vegeta had been confused about the repressive nature and hopelessness of his sadness at the death of his sister.  But now… he realized.  And remembered.

"Goten's fine.  The boy's just fine," Vegeta strangled out.  "But Jita…"

"No…" Chichi whispered.  "Dear Kami, no."  She put a hand on her husband's arm, steadying herself.

"What?" asked Dende, voicing the thoughts of everyone there.

"Jita's gone," Vegeta forced out, his voice gravelly.  "Forever.  She—"

"GOKU!!!"

The high-pitched yell came literally out of nowhere, deafening the people that were straining to hear Vegeta's low voice.  Goku sighed, but greeted the voice.  "What is it, Kaio-sama?"

"YOUR—"  A few muffled words that couldn't have been very complimentary could be heard before the blue god continued.  "Your… SON…  That's what it is.  When did you teach that boy to be so sneaky, and so INSUFFERABLY IDIODIC!!!"

Eyes widening, Goku tried to calm the short-tempered god down.  "What's Goten done, Kaio-sama?"

"HE'S—"  King Kai took a few audible breaths to calm down.  "When Goten got here, he was pretty upset about dying and about his wife, but he seemed to take it fine.  Then he tricks me into showing him Snake Way, where the… IDIOT… jumps off the edge into Hell.  Let me tell you, he's started a fine mess now!"

Goku paled, not believing what he, and everyone else, was hearing.  "Say that again?"

"AREN'T YOU LISTENING TO ME?!  He said he was going to look for his wife, and he's sure enough found her, 'cause now he's gotten himself captured by the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell!  Do you realize how much danger this puts the universe in?  We could all die any second now!  And it's all the fault of your son!"

"Universe in danger?" Goku replied, the moisture leaving from his mouth.  "Who is this Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell?  Someone I've met?"

"Heaven forbid," King Kai said forcefully, for once unaware of his own pun.  "No one knows too much about him, except that he's locked in the lower realms of Hell with an extremely complicated seal that only a few people can cross, but those that cross without proper protection can become part of the seal, and if they try to leave without special circumstances, they can break the seal.  We can't let that happen, because if the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell gets loose, we'll all die.  He's too powerful!"

"Oh, come on, Kaio-sama," Goku said with a touch of pride in his voice.  "He can't be all that powerful.  I mean, he can't be more powerful that Kid Buu, can he?"

"Let me put it this way," King Kai said with a thread of impatience in his voice, "Take ten Kid Buus and add all their strength."

"Yes?" Goku prodded.

"MULTIPLY THAT BY INFINITY!!  This is an unstoppable force, and your ki won't protect you.  Even the genki dama wouldn't protect you.  The only thing that's protecting us is that seal, and for the first time in millions of years, since it was first erected, its in danger of being destroyed.  Who knows if anyone can contain him ever again?"

"Why is Jita with the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell?" Gohan asked quietly.

Vegeta scowled.  "Who do you think trained her all those years when she was dead?  How do you think she was brought back to life?  She… sold her soul for training to… to kill me.  And since she didn't, that… that THING is going to torture her for all of eternity."

And so it was out.  The big secret… the one that Jita had only divulged to three people in all the world.  Of course others had been curious about how she'd come back to life after around thirty years of being dead.  And where she had gotten her unique fighting style, and learned all those techniques.  But no one had ever asked, interpreting it as something that was too personal, and not their business.  But now… it was out.  And it was too late.

King Kai continued after a few beats.  "I'm very sorry about Jita, but she made her decision and accepted the consequences without protest.  She is lost.  If anyone tries to get her out, the seal would definitely be broken.  But Goten… someone who's familiar with Hell needs to go in and get him.  Since the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell only affects the dead while he's in his prison, it needs to be someone living.  Someone slightly _responsible for this whole mess…"_

"All right, Kaio-sama," Goku interrupted the catfish god, relief that there was finally something he could do.  "I'll go and get him out.  Let me teleport over to you to get directions."

Goku raised two fingers to his forehead and began to concentrate.

"Wait, Kakarrot."

Goku turned to the Saiyan prince, who was walking toward him.  "What is it, Vegeta?"

"Well, you don't think you're going through Hell alone, do you?  Kami knows what trouble you'd get into.  I'm going as well."  Vegeta crossed his arms, daring him to either refuse, or to think this was a gesture of friendship.  It wasn't, of course.

Goku grinned.  "All right, Vegeta.  I'm sure if there's any way to get Jita out of there, we can find it."

Vegeta tried not to flinch as Goku touched his shoulder, reminding himself that it was necessary if he was going to do this.

"Good luck, Goku," Chichi said, forcing a cheerful tone out of her thin white lips.  

"Bring 'em back, you two," Bulma called out after them.

If there were any more well-wishers, Goku and Vegeta did not hear them.  With a smile from Goku and a scowl from Vegeta, the two blinked out of sight.

The next thing Goku and Vegeta knew, they were standing in Enma-sama's pagoda, appearing before a very irate King Kai.  Vegeta quickly moved away from Goku and crossed his arms, acknowledging the familiar place and the none-too-pleasant memories it invoked with a soft grunt.

"Oh, so you brought company," King Kai addressed Goku in a tone with a slightly unfriendly tinge.  "Good.  You two work well together."

Goku nodded, while Vegeta's scowl deepened.  He had to remind himself that he couldn't fry a kai.  "Cut it, Kai.  Tell us how to save Goten and Jita."

The god's cheeks quickly turned from blue to red as he tried to contain his ever-mounting temper.  He'd NEVER had to withstand such disrespect from a mortal.  He had to remind himself that this particular mortal was MUCH stronger than he was.  That didn't stop him from answering the question angrily.  "You DON'T save Jita.  Didn't you hear me?  Jita is gone.  She knew it… you knew it…  She is beyond redemption.  If you try to save her, you'll be dooming the universe to a fate worse than any Frieza, Cell, or Buu.  Do NOT try to save her."

Vegeta's eyes hardened, but before he could say anything, Goku interrupted.  "We understand.  Now," he continued, ignoring Vegeta's glare, "how do we get to the Lower Realms?"

King Kai cleared his throat.  "Good to see you've got the best interests of the universe at heart, Goku.  All right, pay attention, 'cause I'm going to say this once.  You're going to take the usual way to the highest realm of Hell, and keep traveling west.  Each staircase downward is going to be further and further west.  I don't know how many levels of Hell you'll have to go through, because there's levels being added and destroyed every day.  Just don't get caught in any level that's being destroyed for too long."

Goku frowned slightly.  "That'll take forever.  Isn't there a quicker way…?"

"I'm giving you the long route, and that'll lead to the equivalent of the back door to the lower realms of Hell.  He won't be expecting that, and he's too busy tormenting Jita, and maybe even Goten, to notice you two."

"But if I use Instant Transmission…"

"DON'T!!" King Kai yelled just in time, because Goku had already gotten in the position and had his hand on Vegeta's shoulder, ready to teleport.  "JUST… don't."  Kaio-sama took a few breaths, shaken at the tragedy he'd just prevented.  "Since Goten weakened the seal so much, Instant Transmission would definitely break the seal.  You'll have to go the long way.  It's the safest and…"

"All right, Kaio-sama," Goku replied cheerfully.  "Go west.  No transmission.  Gotcha.  If there's nothing else, we need to get going.  Come on Vegeta."

"Don't do anything stupid!!" Kaio-sama called after them.  "Look who I'm saying this to," he mumbled to himself fatalistically.

As the two walked to Snake Way, office demons nervously making way for the duo they'd watched kill Buu, Vegeta turned angrily at Goku.  "How could you agree so easily, Kakarrot?" he growled.  "He forbids us to save Jita, and all you can say is 'I understand'?  Whatever happened to your stupidly optimistic 'If there's a will, there's a way' attitude that I usually can't stand?"

"You worry too much, Vegeta," Goku answered as the two jumped off Snake Way into Hell.  He had apparently momentarily forgotten the grief and worry he'd nearly succumbed to earlier that day.  Now, he was grinning fiercely in anticipation of adventure and rescue.  "We'll get her back.  I was just saying that to get Kaio-sama to tell us where to go.  He'd never have let us go if he knew what we were going to do."

As the two Saiyans finally landed in front of a lake of blood amidst thousands of floating spirits and the occasion demon to supervise the inhabitants of Hell, Vegeta eyed his rival.  "Sometimes, and I do mean very infrequently, Kakarrot, I don't give you enough credit."

**Author's Notes**: So, what'd ya think?  Am I evil or what?  Just wait till you see the next chapter.  It's… in the works.  It'll be lighter in some places, darker in others.  But definitely fun to write, and hopefully fun to read.

Thanks to all my reviewers: Silver Warrior (You better believe it.), Dark Wolf (And the madness continues.  Sorry, but the Leech's description was not inspired by Ixion.  I wrote the description long ago, before I read Fullmoon Light.), aqua-illusion (Well, hope you're still juiced, cause here's more.  And the really big action gets ever bigger.  I just hope no one gets overly worried with you running around the room shrieking.), Tonifranz (Umm… as you see, I've included Tien, and I'll probably include a few other people as well.  When I got Tien up there, as well as Chaotzu, I realized that there wasn't much for him to say.  I'll do the best that I can with other character, but I just didn't have a place for them in the beginning of the story.  I certainly can't wait to see your writing in March.  I remember how difficult it was to not have a worthwhile computer.  I had no computer, so I had to rely on the computer labs on campus.  Not very convenient, though probably more convenient than Internet cafes, especially since I live too far our in the sticks to be near such new-fangled things as Internet cafes.  Oh, and yes you are right about Nappa not mentioning his rampage on Earth.  Plus, you have to take into account that he was scribbling that final note in chapter 12 while Vegeta was probably wondering where he was.  He didn't have a lot of time to go into detail.  I… have mixed feelings about GT.  I just feel that all those powerful demi-Saiyans became over-glorified batteries, even as early as the Baby Saga.  That's just me, though.), tim333 (I'm sorry that I could only use two of my regular reviewers names.  The rest of the author names just wouldn't work.  But I found your last name from your e-mail.  And it's part of your e-mail address too.  I'm sorry if you didn't want it included, but I didn't think it would be a problem, since you had it as your e-mail.  Oh, well.  And, yes, I now know precisely what I'm doing and where I'm going.  There may be a few things here and there that I haven't worked out, but those are just details.  Now that I've gotten past the transition, I pretty much know what I'm doing.), and Omega (Thanks for the profuse praise.  I was wondering where you were.  As for the point of view… I'm going to go back to my old thing where the point of view jumps from person to person.  At least, up until a point.  Won't say any more.).

**Shameless Plug**:  In between my admittedly long gaps in updates, please read my new story Sarie Mue.  I don't self-promote much (HA!), but this time I'm not only promoting myself, I'm promoting my gifted co-author Howler.  Those of you who have read a lot of my stuff, or even just this story, know that my usual style is angst-filled drama with a few attempts at wry humor.  Sarie Mue is completely different.  It's still well-written (I wouldn't have it any other way), but it's a parody.  One which cracks us up just writing it.  Sarie Mue is an annoying pathetic fangirl who is put in hopefully romantic situations with various men of the DBZ world by the Great Will of the Cosmos.  There are fifty chapters planned, so the different characters get pretty obscure.  Right now we've gotten three chapters written, with Trunks, Goku, and Krillen, respectively.  The chapter we're working on now is with 17.  We'll of course cover all the heroes and villains, but imagine a romance with the Budoukai announcer guy.  Or King Kai.  Or Master Roshi.  Just a few of the chapters that will pop up.  This, of course, parodies self-insertion romance fics, as well as Funimation, the anime itself, anime in general, and anything that stays still long enough.  Believe me, it's worth your while.  

This chapter didn't have as much… well… any action, but it was a necessary explanation chapter.  And definite emotions running through.  Next chapter should have some action.  Mostly in a "journey through the Underworld" type thing.  Hope y'all enjoy.

Until next time.


	37. Levels: Journey through the Underworld

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes:  WHEW!!  This one was long in coming, but it's my longest chapter so far.  Believe me when I say I've worked long and hard on this one.  I thought about breaking it up into smaller chapters, but I didn't have the heart to do that.  I just wanted to plow on through.  You will find this chapter extremely strange.  I tried to explain all the references enough so that you could understand it, even if you haven't done research into underworld mythology.  I… have.  Believe me I have.  And that just brought out my odd sense of humor even more.  Needless to say, this chapter isn't the usual fare of angst.  Plenty of angst and drama in it, don't you worry about that.

I feel I need to have a second disclaimer.  As luck would have it, as I was writing this chapter, I would also read chapters of Mythic Descent by Dragoness Eclectic.  I believe Tonifranz mentioned this fine work earlier.  I was horrified to find that what I'd just written was similar to some parts in the Dragoness's epic of Vegeta's journey through the Underworld.  But I didn't change it.  I didn't have the heart to change it.  So, I'll simply say that any similarity between this chapter of "The Soul" and any part of "Mythic Descent" is honestly and purely coincidental.  There.  Now that my conscience is clear, I can get on with the chapter.

**Chapter 36:** Levels: Journey through the Underworld

_Darkness.___

_And… cold.___

_But not silence.  Once on Earth I could find reprieve from him.  Now…_

_I can't._

_Ever.___

Jita lay in the darkness – so dark and cold that she couldn't even tell if she had a body anymore.  She could barely feel the hard gravely floor against her back and her head, but what if those were just phantom pains?  What if her body had really been taken away, and now she was just a free-floating spirit in the lower realms of hell?__

**_AND WHAT IF THIS IS ALL A DREAM, HMM, JITA?  ___**

_A dream…_

**_WHAT IF YOU'LL WAKE UP, AND FIND YOURSELF LYING ALL COZY NEXT TO YOUR HUSBAND, AS YOU HAVE SO MANY NIGHTS BEFORE WHEN I'VE JUST BEEN TRYING TO TALK WITH YOU OH SO PLEASANTLY.  ___**

_Yes.  That must be it.  It… it's been too short a time.  I'm not ready to die yet.  I planned to live a full happy life with my family before this happened.  Well… it can't have happened.  It hasn't happened.  I'm all right.  I'm just…_

**_MAYBE IT'S STILL THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BUDOUKAI.  ___**

_I'm just having a restless night from the excitement.  _

**_YOU KNOW HOW I TORMENT YOU ON RESTLESS NIGHTS.  ___**

_And…_

**_…JUST BECAUSE…___**

_…I've dreamt of dying at the Budoukai…_

**_…CERTAINLY DOESN'T MEAN THAT YOU'VE DIED AND GONE…___**

Suddenly, the pain began, forcing the agonizing awareness of the existence of her body onto Jita's unprepared psyche.  Through the white-hot and equally cold lightning streaks that were flashing through every inch of her body, Jita managed to strangle out the end to the sentence.__

"…to Hell…"

                                                         *****

"So this is what Hell looks like."

Goku cocked his head quizzically as the two Saiyans flew through and past the Nimbus-looking clouds into the very upper reaches of Hell.  "I thought you'd been here before, Vegeta."

Vegeta snorted and shook his head.  "I was hardly dead long enough to even get through the line at King Enma's place, much less go on to Hell.  So that's it.  We're going to have to navigate our way through a place that neither of us has been."

"Oh, I've been to Hell plenty of times," Goku said casually.

The two landed neatly next to the Hell check-in station.  The office demon there smiled when he recognized Goku.  "Hello, Mr. Goku, sir," the strange lisped voice rang out, belying his demonic appearance.  "Long time no see.  Frank and I were just talking the other day, wondering when you were finally going to die.  Are you close yet?  I really can't keep up with how various mortals age."

Goku laughed nervously.  "Probably not gonna die any time soon, Bob."

Bob smiled the creepy smile that only office demons could pull off.  "Yes, I'm certain with a strong buff body like yours, you won't be dropping off any time soon.  Still working out?  And just _who's_ your friend?"

Without giving any sort of answer, Goku mouthed to Vegeta, "Let's go," before there was an awkward situation.  "See ya!" he called back to Bob, who was looking a bit put out.

Vegeta's eyes widened slightly as he interpreted the whole scene.  "What…?"

Goku laughed slightly.  "They're pretty much all like that.  You get used to it after a while.  It _is_ weird, though.  That guy's been after me since he guided me to Snake Way the first time I died."

Vegeta shot a glance over at the tall Saiyan and shuddered.  _I don't want to know. "So, Hell," he quickly changed the subject.  "What, were you being punished in the afterlife by having to spend time in Hell?  And what would the pure-hearted perfect "Goku" have done in the afterlife to deserve that?"_

Goku laughed.  "Nah, it wasn't punishment.  We have guard duty for mortals for that.  When you're a Warrior of the Dead, going to Hell is an honor.  We're sent to quell rebellions when the demons can't handle it.  I've gone to several levels of Hell, but not as far as the Lower Realms.  Me and Pikkon were sent down most times.  Nothing more fun than taking on some of the stronger of the damned."

Vegeta grunted.  "The way you talk, Kakarrot, one would almost think you missed being dead."

Goku gave Vegeta a shadowed look, quickly hidden.  Vegeta uncharacteristically shut off that line of conversation.  He remembered how Goku was during those first few months when he'd been brought back to life.  It seemed like he just didn't know how to be alive anymore.  He'd go without food or sleep, just from not remembering to take care of himself.  He'd pulled out of it, but being dead had obviously affected him in so many ways that he'd just never been the same as he was eight years earlier.  _Probably never will be the same… must be why that son of his has so many problems with him.  Thoughts of Goten pulled Vegeta's mind back to their current mission.  "If you're such an expert on Hell, Kakarrot, then how exactly do you find west in a place with no sun or moon?"_

Goku grinned and scratched the back of his head.  "That's easy, Vegeta.  You just follow the signs.  They're never wrong."

Vegeta stopped in front of a sign – the only sign he could see in any direction, and read the big bold **YOU ARE HERE printed in great red letters.  He quirked an eyebrow up at his rival.  "How exactly is THAT supposed to help us go west?"**

At the words 'go west,' the seemingly useless sign perked up, flashed to a brighter red, and began gliding on Hell's floor in a direction, presumably west.  The sign hesitated mechanically, seeming to wait for the two Saiyans to start following.

Vegeta gave a dead-pan expression.  "You've got to be kidding me."

Goku, taking up the prompts from the sign, looked back at Vegeta.  "What?  What did you think I meant?"

Vegeta shook his head, realizing that he'd probably never get anything sane out of Goku, no matter where he was.  "Never mind.  Just… lead on."

And so, the two headed west.  Long silvery spikes and an otherwise desolate wasteland surrounded them, peppered and contrasted with… parks?  And ice cream shops.  And lemonade stands.  And nice cultured groves of trees, seeming to grow without any nourishment from the barren rocky ground.  Finally, Vegeta had had as much as he could stand.  "Kakarrot… what is all this?!"

Goku looked at Vegeta quizzically.  "What?  Oh!" he exclaimed as he realized how weird this much look for a newcomer.  "This is the Home for Infinite Losers – always the first level of Hell.  Mostly lesser demons run this place, so it has the most rebellions.  Since just being here and having only a fraction of the power you had in life is punishment enough, the demons try to make it look nice.  We… may be meeting some old friends here."

Suddenly a blast of energy enveloped the two.  It might have knocked them off their feet, if they hadn't been as powered up as they could be in their normal form already – just as a precaution.  Instead, the flashy yet weak blast faded out, to show some very frightened members of the Ginyu force.

"Hey!" Goku said cheerily.  "Long time no see!  What'd you do that for?"

After a moment of gaping, the four members of the Ginyu force gave each other a look, and nodded.  The large redhead, Recoome, suddenly screamed, "DANCE OF RETREAT!!"  In a flurry of complicated and choreographed movements, the four Ginyu members, who seemed to have filled in the gaps in their left routine left by their absent captain, quickly completed their dance and flew like mad away from the two Saiyans.

While Goku was still recovering from watching the ludicrous display, Vegeta took a moment to laugh at the fleeing dead warriors.  "Never thought I'd see the day that the members of the "mighty" Ginyu Force would be this pathetic.  I actually once considered them formidable opponents."

Goku shrugged.  "Well, they're probably off to warn the others.  So, we can either expect an ambush or nothing at all.  Depends on if Frieza and Cell feel lucky today."

The sign had resumed its course, and the two began following it once more.  Finally registering what Goku had said, Vegeta eyes went a little wider and his voice went almost imperceptibly quieter.  "Frieza's here?"

Goku looked over at his rival and nodded, noting the sudden tenseness in Vegeta's posture.  Of course.  Even though Vegeta had FAR surpassed his old master/tormenter after all this time, it WOULD be hard to face him for nearly the first time since Frieza's had killed him.  Goku grinned and shrugged to himself.  He wasn't worried.  Maybe it would be liberating to see how much of a joke Frieza was now.

It didn't take long until Goku spotted the familiar sight of the Pool of Blood, and surrounding one-story office buildings, the gym for demons, and the more elaborate amusement park.  The park was in various stages of repair, as it always seemed to be in ever since the fight on Namek, when so many of Frieza's minions died.

Goku looked around for the usual crowd of defeated enemies.  The place was strangely empty, even of the disembodied souls that were always underfoot.  "There was probably a panic when the Ginyu force reported our presence," Goku remarked thoughtfully.

A low laugh came from around King Enma's peach tree.  "You're right, of course, Goku," said the oddly accented man.

Vegeta gave a start.  "Zarbon?"

The effeminate former right hand man of Frieza walked out from the tree's shadow.  "Good to be remembered, really.  Hello, Vegeta.  How've ya been?"

Vegeta regarded the man he remembered so differently with a single raised eyebrow.  "I've been better.  So, why didn't you turn tail and flee like the others?"

Zarbon snorted.  "Why should I?  The only way that I'd need to fight you and subsequently get beaten to a pulp is to provoke you.  Of course, Frieza was probably smart to run.  Knowing you, Vegeta, you'd probably make his immediate future miserable just for the fun of it."

Vegeta smiled at the idea.  It _would_ be fun, just time-consuming.  Once he got started on that, he probably wouldn't want to quit any time soon.  "So it isn't _Lord Frieza any more?" he said mockingly._

Zarbon shrugged.  "Why should it be?  Soon as I died, I considered myself completely free of him."  He sighed.  "Listen, Vegeta, you and I were never exactly chums, but I always thought we had a certain understanding.  Neither of us could raise a hand to Frieza… yet… so both of us had the smarts to stay alive, which required both of us to play his little games.  I almost assumed that if it came down to rebellion, and if I was sure that we were going to win, we'd be on the same side against him."  Zarbon laughed bitterly.  "I guess I was wrong."

Vegeta crossed his arms, refusing to feel guilt for killing the man.  "It wouldn't have worked anyway."

Zarbon smirked.  "I suppose it wouldn't have.  So, what are you two doing here, anyway?  Neither of you are dead.  What, is it some demon rebellion that Pikkon and Olibu couldn't handle?  Or maybe the soul washing machine got backed up and all the evil possessed an office demon?"

Goku laughed.  "When would that ever happen?  Nah, I bet those two have everything under control.  We're on a rescue mission to the Lower Realms of Hell."

Zarbon's smirk melted into a look of surprise.  "The Lower Realms…?  Who in Hell would be in the Lower Realms that you'd need to rescue?"

Vegeta scowled.  "Long story.  Remember my sister?"

Zarbon nodded.  "Yeah.  Um… Jita was her name?  Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed.  "So that's her that I keep hearing.  The demons keep saying that a resurrected servant of the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell has recently died and greatly displeased her master."

Goku cleared his throat.  "Umm… you said you keep "hearing" her?"

Zarbon nodded.  "For those who are used to listening, and when it's really quiet, you can hear the screaming…"

Vegeta immediately snapped back into action.  "Kakarrot, we are wasting time.  We need to save your son and my sister before it's too late."

Zarbon cocked his head.  "Son…?  Right.  Long story.  Well, as long as the usual guard demons are away…" Zarbon floated up to the branches of the peach tree, picked four peaches, and deftly tossed them to the two Saiyans.  "This may be the last food you can eat if you're going through the levels of Hell.  May come in handy.  Plus, some of the Hell fighters are restless for some reason.  You may need quick healing after a while."

Goku and Vegeta bemusedly stowed the fruit away for later eating.  "So," Goku asked, "how many levels are there now, Zarbon?"

Zarbon thought for a minute.  "A few of the cultural levels were moved to another dimension, along with the ambiguous levels of other ages, so I think the last count was six, including H.F.I.L. and the Lower Realms.  They squished all the circles of Dante into one level, so that should save some time.  I think I heard that Hades was having his weekly poker game a bit early, so knock before you go into the palace.  I… guess that's all that's going on.  Pretty slow in Hell, to tell you the truth."

Goku grinned.  "Should make King Enma pretty happy.  Well, see ya!  And thanks!"

Quicker than a thought, a small ki ball flew past Zarbon.  He tensed, thinking that the Saiyans had changed their minds and attacked him, but no.  Neither of them would have missed.  Instead, a white and purple figure had fallen from an outcropping above the prison cave.  Zarbon laughed at the plight of his old master, and at the glee in the eyes of Vegeta, who was already turning away.

"Nice shot!" Zarbon called out after the departing Saiyan.

Vegeta looked over his shoulder and gave a nod.  In all his life, he'd always wanted to do that.

As the two neared an ornate staircase with a sign over it flashing **LEVEL TWO** and the guide sign came to a rest, tilting slightly to point downward, Vegeta shook his head slightly.  "I wonder…" he trailed off.

Goku regarded him.  "Wonder what?  How Hell can change a person like that so much?"

Vegeta shook his head in negation.  "I wonder if he was always like that."

                                                           *****

Goten sat shivering in the dark, rocking back and forth, back and forth.  His low bed seemed harder that night, and no matter how hard he'd tried to fall asleep before the nightly terrifying sounds began, he couldn't.  His bed was just too hard, and it was too cold and too dark.

_Where am I again?_

Oh, yes.  At home, where he should be.  He laid down and curled up, willing himself to go to sleep, and feeling around for… who?  No one slept with him in his bed.  Gohan was sleeping in the next bed, but he was lost to the world in a book.  Soon, he'd put the book down, turn his reading light off, and feign sleep.  But Goten knew his brother would take a long while in actually getting to sleep.  Gohan wasn't the only one who feigned sleep.

"Gohan?"

There was no answer.  Of course there wasn't.  Gohan probably hadn't even heard the boy, so intent was he on that book.  Goten thought about calling a few more times a bit louder to get the older boy's attention, but it didn't seem worth the effort.  Goten was just so tired…  He knew he'd drag in the morning, probably causing his mom to go into a worrying fit.  Just as long as she didn't call the local doctor.  That man was creepy, and Goten hated needles.  Of course, he never vocalized that fear any more.  Not when every time he did so, his mother would look at him so strangely and AGAIN tell him how like his father he was.  That just made Goten… so uncomfortable.  He didn't even know the man, but if he was anything like his mother – and everyone else – said, he'd be too good to live.

Goten flinched in his bed when the wailing started.  First low, then growing in intensity, broken by short gasps of breath.  In the dimness, he saw his brother tense up in his bed.  Goten pulled tighter into a ball, willing himself to tune the sound out.  He gave up when he heard the sobs in the bed adjacent to him.  He knew that would go on for some time, and he just wanted to get some sleep.

Casting around on his bedside table, nearly knocking his alarm clock to the floor, he finally found the headphones and cassette player – hand-me-downs from Gohan.  The headset was originally a study tool for Gohan, to educate him in his sleep, but he had long outgrown such equipment.  There were no music cassettes at the house, so Goten kept the study tapes in.  They didn't make him any smarter, but they DID help him get to sleep.

Goten pulled the headphones on and pressed play, not even bothering to rewind the tape.  

**_Je n'ai pas une âme.__  I have no soul._**

The strangely comforting feminine voice rang out in intermingled French and English, first providing a French phrase, then supplying the English translation.  

**_Je m'appelle La Voix.__  My name is The Voice._**

On and on the voice droned…

**_Tu es mon prisonnier. __ You are my prisoner._**

…slowly but surely growing increasingly more masculine…

**_Je dévorerai ta vie.__  I will devour your life._**

…and more mocking…

**_Ta femme et ton fils te détestent.__  Your wife and son detest you._**

… until it was too much to bear…

**_Ils_****_ ne sont pas des âmes…_**

Shaking, Goten pulled one headphone off an ear, listening into the darkness.  Gohan's sobbing had stopped, but his mother's wailing and sobbing and crying continued louder than before.  Goten frowned in frustration.  _How am I supposed to find peace with that woman wailing her lungs out all night?  Can't she just get it through her head that he's dead, and I'm not him?  Can't they just get over my oh-so-caring father that didn't even want to come back to life?  How can he be so great if I can't sleep because of the crying that HE'S caused?_

Goten blinked, realizing his hard cold bed was gone.  So was the bed next to him, along with his brother.  So was his room.  So was the whole house.  He was lying on a cold stone floor, feeling much older than six, and practically dying for a drink of water.  All that remained was the woman's cries.

_Why won't she just shut up?_ Goten thought.  _How am I supposed to sleep?  I can't even find quiet in Hell._

**_STOP CARING FOR THE PERSON, AND THE CRIES WILL GO AWAY._**

Goten laid back and sighed.  The cries grew slightly dimmer.  In the back of his mind, though, he thought, _What__ would Mom be doing in Hell?_

Somewhere in the darkness, not too far away from the curled up demi-Saiyan, Jita continued to cry.

                                                           *****

The first thought Vegeta had upon entering the second level of Hell was, _How_ can Hell have a sky?__

The second thought was, _Why__ does this place look so extremely familiar?_

His third thought was tinged in irritation.  _Why is Kakarrot grinning at me?_

Vegeta's initial confusion was understandable.  It certainly didn't look like any level of Hell.  Even on the top level of Hell, you would never be treated to a clear starry sky, with a weak quarter moon hanging on the horizon just as the last remnants of sunset were fading.  While, to anyone else, the red cliffs and dangerous looking plant life would be the archetypical Hell, or at least Perjury, to Vegeta it was comforting.  Inviting.  Familiar.__

"Prince Vegeta.  Kakarrot.  Welcome to the Saiyan level."__

Vegeta whipped around to be greeted by the sight of his long-dead partner and bodyguard…__

"Raditz.  What are you doing here?"__

Raditz smirked.  "I'm dead, Vegeta.  And evil.  Hence my existence in Hell.  I should be asking you that question."__

As Vegeta scowled, ready to go into a long detailed description of why Raditz was not worthy of speaking to him like that, Goku intervened.  "Raditz, you know what he means.  How did you know that we were going to be here?  We were kinda going for a secret journey through Hell."__

"Dad told me to meet you.  He said what you were seeking would be found in the palace, so if you'll follow me Prince Vegeta," he said with a slight bow.  "Brother," he said as an afterthought.__

"Oh, that explains it," Goku said knowingly, and wordlessly began to follow his brother.__

Vegeta shook his head in frustration and walked with them, frowning that he had to walk at a quicker pace just to keep up with the two tall Saiyan brothers.  Why had he never noticed how alike Kakarrot and Raditz were?  "And why does that 'explain it,' hmm, Kakarrot?  Why exactly is it so conceivable that Bardock would know of our arrival, and not Raditz?  And when have you started being so chummy?  Last I knew you were trying to kill each other… and did."__

Goku sighed.  "It's a long story…"__

"Dad has vision, and Kakarrot and I made up when he died the second time.  He's spent a lot of time in the Saiyan level, just getting to know mom… dad… the other Saiyans…," Raditz interrupted, impatient with unneeded conversation.__

"Visions…?" Vegeta prompted.__

"Well…" Goku began.__

"A thing that Dad was supposed to kill on a purge mission cursed him with the ability to see the future in flashes.  He still has 'em in Hell."__

"Will you let me say something?" Goku asked a bit forcefully, the barest unfamiliar note of exasperation edging into his voice.__

"Talk faster, little brother," Raditz said simply.__

Vegeta laughed under his breath.  It was refreshing to see the oh-so-confident Goku get shaken by someone other than Chichi, but he didn't get into family quarrels.  That was one of the classic blunders.__

Once they had gotten out of the area where ptakis hunted (birds native to Planet Vegeta with poisoned talons that could breathe acid fumes), the three Saiyans took to the sky.  On the horizon they could see a graceful, yet somewhat severe city outlined in the lingering red of moonlight reflected off the Blood Cliffs – known both for its color and for the high number of Tsufuru executions that had taken place there, or at least on their counterparts in reality.  Vegeta wondered about the perfect recreation of his home world from so long ago.  Had it been created through the magic of Hell by the very will of the Saiyan race, or… had the Planet Vegeta become so connected with the race that had conquered it and wrested it away from the hands of the Tsufuru, that it had almost formed a life and consciousness of its own, and had gone the way of all life once swept away?__

And why exactly did the Afterlife always make Vegeta so philosophical?__

"Raditz," he asked, "why are we in an exact replica of Planet Vegeta.  This seems more like Heaven than Hell."

Raditz grinned.  "Well, my Prince, it's still Hell, but it's not all that bad.  We get to live here, with our own level and everything, as payment.  We have a purpose here, and it's not killing people either."

Vegeta shook his head to clear his mind and focus once again on his mission.  Rescue Jita.  …And Goten, of course.  Though, that was why Goku was here.  He could save Goten… he was his father, after all…

_I'm going to see my father._

The thought came unbidden to Vegeta's mind, and once there it couldn't be shaken loose.  His father – the king.  Vegeta had gone through layer upon layer of how he felt for his father.  When he was a child – truly a child, before the lizard had taken him and every vestige of childhood – Vegeta had practically worshipped his father.  The king was everything he was supposed to be – everything he wanted to be.  The man had seemed huge to the nine-year-old child.  And, though Vegeta bested his father in potential at the time, King Vegeta was still the stronger and more experienced.  Every moment spent with his son, every glance and word, Vegeta had been eager to drink it in.  Even the disregard King Vegeta showed the Princess Jita was in no way an impediment to the hero worship Vegeta held for his father.

And then there was Frieza.  While promising a world of pain and death for his father if the prince did not follow every command, Frieza made it perfectly clear to him that King Vegeta had sold him – to save his own hide.  At first Vegeta had laughed it off, but the constant insistence of the truth of that one dark deed of his father – as well as the open hatred Jita often voiced for the man – all combined into a resentment, if not hatred, within Vegeta for his father.  The news of his father's death did not change Vegeta's feelings in the slightest.  Not while Frieza was teaching him so carefully to hate.

And then there was Earth.  Vegeta's failed attempt at rebellion against Frieza had given Vegeta a new respect for his late father.  He had blamed King Vegeta for his imprisonment, his slavery, and even the destruction of planet Vegeta and the deaths of all the Saiyans.  He'd always been convinced that King Vegeta could have and should have stopped it all.  But he himself – the Prince – stronger and more schooled in the art of war that his father had ever been – had failed and died himself at the hands of the man who had killed all the Saiyans.  His return to life had given him the chance to reevaluate his opinion of his father – and have respect for him.

But what would be the King's opinion of his only son?  Would it be shame?  Respect?  Pride?  Indifference…?

"We're here," Raditz said, pulling the doors to the palace open all too soon.  Vegeta, in his reverie, hadn't even noticed the many Saiyans looking on in the city surrounding the palace… all ghosts he could barely remember from his childhood.  It DID feel a little spooky being able to see them, in a place in Hell that seemed less like Hell and more like home, and not be able to feel them in his head, like he had so long ago.

As the three entered the main chamber and throne room of the Palace of Vegeta, they were greeted by the entire Saiyan Court – all the elites and most of the first-classes.  Vegeta surprised himself when he could remember most of their names… Quata, his tutor; Lymonia, an older woman who was one of the few to actually raise her voice to Vegeta when he was a child; even, to Vegeta's amazement, some of his childhood friends, still trapped in the youthful body they'd died in – never able to grow.  Kakra in particular was yelping jovially at his former best friend, not deterred in the least that Vegeta's body had far surpassed him in age.  But he held back, for which Vegeta was partly relieved and disappointed.  He wasn't sure how far he wanted to remember even the good times in his childhood.

"Prince Vegeta," a gravelly voice called to him from the front of the room – though not in a shout of recognition.  This was a voice used to command.  Vegeta turned away from the throng of Saiyans to greet…

"Nappa…"  Vegeta cleared his throat.  "General Nappa," he said a bit more formally, finding that facing Nappa was a bit harder than facing all the other Saiyans… even Raditz.  He still remembered the look on Nappa's face as he'd been flung into the air and killed at the hands of his prince…  Funny how Vegeta hadn't even given a thought to seeing his old mentor before.

"And Kakarrot," Nappa continued, as if he hadn't caught the look in Vegeta's eyes.  "Welcome to New Vegeta, or what most people would call the second level of Hell.  I regret that I must inform you that the King and Queen are indisposed in another level of Hell and cannot greet you now.  Now, if you'll come this way… I know you don't have much time to waste."

Vegeta followed numbly, along with Goku and Raditz.  He'd built himself up to seeing his parents so much, that it just seemed unreal that he wouldn't be able to see them.  Of all days for them to be gone…

After a few corridors, Vegeta knew exactly where they were going.  He wasn't at all surprised to enter a room filled with scientific equipment… and a very familiar Saiyan standing there with a very familiar grin.

Raditz pulled on a grin to mirror the other's.  "Hey, dad.  They're here, just like you said."

"When has Bardock ever been wrong?" Nappa said off-handedly, annoyed at Raditz's obvious statement.

Bardock, ignoring the banter between his son and the general, bowed at the waist quickly before Vegeta.  Although not particularly a traditionalist, always finding such attitudes silly from one who spent most of his life talking business with the king, Bardock deliberately said the pledge to royalty to the one to whom he'd never directly sworn fealty.

After the ritual had been concluded, Vegeta smirked at Bardock's youngest.  "You should learn from your father, Kakarrot.  At least he knows respect."

Goku just laughed.  "Vegeta, you know I don't go in for all that."

Bardock laughed briefly, ignoring the glare from all around.  "Kakarrot, my son," he said easily, contrasting the strict formality he displayed before the prince and going back to his usual ways.  "It has been a long time since you've come to see us.  Your mother has been worried that you'd never come around again."

Goku grinned.  "Sorry, dad, but it's hard to get down here when you're alive.  I only got permission to go through Hell so we could go to the Lower Realms of Hell and save Jita… and Goten."

Nappa sucked in breath.  "The princess?!"

Bardock had a similar reaction.  "Goten?  My grandson?!  Why is he in that forsaken place?!"  

Raditz merely looked away, his eyes wide.  "He followed her?" he whispered, unaware that he had spoken the thought aloud.  The whisper, however, was not too soft for the other Saiyans to hear.

"Raditz," Bardock began suspiciously, "what do you know?  Why would Princess Jita be in the Lower Realms?"

"You mean," Vegeta cut in, "you don't know?  You're in Hell.  Isn't it pretty hard to miss?"

"Miss what?  What are you talking about, my liege?" Nappa said in confusion.

Vegeta didn't answer, but looked at Raditz.  "How do you know?"

Raditz bit his lip.  "I… searched for her when I came to Hell, not finding her with the other Saiyans.  I thought that the King had banished her from this level of Hell, but from what I could tell, his Majesty wasn't even aware that she was dead.  None of the Saiyans were.  Then I thought," he laughed bitterly, "that she had been sent to Heaven.  I don't know why, but I thought a soul as pure as hers…"

"You loved her," Goku interrupted his brother.  "Is that why you never told me about her?"

Raditz kept his gaze away from everyone.  "It doesn't matter anymore, anyway, but… I… cared about her.  Still care about her.  I thought… when she was alive… that we could join.  Continue the Saiyan race… once our age difference didn't matter as much.  She had just grown old enough when…"

His voice trailed away as Bardock stared at his elder son in open shock.  Both Vegeta and Nappa had been aware of Raditz's feelings in life.  Nappa had been leery of the projected union, as well as incredibly sympathetic to the poor sap who was voluntarily dooming himself to being linked to the volatile princess who didn't even love him.  Vegeta had felt a bit the same way, but was willing to accept the union.  He'd wanted his sister to have someone to trust – besides himself – and Raditz was loyal to the point of fanaticism to both royals.

Not that it mattered now.

Bardock recovered quickly.  "Raditz?"

Raditz cleared his throat.  "I'd heard rumors of the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell taking an… 'apprentice'… around the same time she died.  It didn't take much longer to find out that it was she.  I saw her come back to life.  I saw her join with my nephew.  I was… glad that she at least found one of my blood to find peace with."  Raditz looked up at Goku.  "She's dead, isn't she?"

Goku nodded slowly.  "They're both dead."

"Killed by a leech," Vegeta supplied gruffly.

"And the child?" Raditz said softly.

"Taken by the same, no doubt," Bardock supplied, lost in the enormity of the situation.  "And they're both trapped down there.  So now the vision makes sense."

Amidst the silence that had settled over the Saiyans, Bardock crossed the room.  He opened a door that looked for all the world like a supply closet, if not for the complicated ki-shield that protected the narrow staircase descending into darkness.

Vegeta stared at it a moment before realizing what it was.  "The third level?"

"Yes, Vegeta-sama," Bardock replied, working with Nappa to dissipate the ki shield.  "Not only the third level, but the gateway to the Middle Realms of Hell.  That's why the Saiyans populate the second level of Hell.  We are the guardians of this portal.  Only those who have proof of permission can descend."

Vegeta frowned.  "So that's the all-important job that Raditz was talking about.  What stops beings like Frieza from simply tearing through all your defenses?  Your power has not grown in death."

Nappa snorted and nodded.  "It can't, either.  That's part of the punishment of Hell.  But we are united, in a way that didn't seem possible in life.  Frieza killed us all because we were disorganized.  Plus… I'm sure you haven't noticed, but there are far more Saiyans here than even the large population that died with Planet Vegeta.  Every Saiyan that ever existed is here.  Every.  One.  All the kings, though your father keeps his position through superior power and intellect.  And even the Saiyans that died thousands of years ago.  Including…" he paused for effect, "the Legendary Super Saiyan."

Goku grinned at that.  "Is he still keeping to himself?"

Bardock nodded.  "The Nameless One prefers to keep to himself.  But he'll come whenever we need him."  Bardock smirked and added.  "Or maybe when a certain Super Saiyan STAYS dead and he wants a good spar."

Vegeta wanted to ask more about this astounding fact, but the ki shield was gone.  He knew it was time to go.  "Come, Kakarrot."

"Just a minute," Goku said quickly.  "Hey, Nappa, you usually keep up with these things.  What are the other levels now?"

Nappa thought for a minute.  "It changed recently.  The Muzak level was moved to another dimension.  The level for authors who don't write fast enough to please their fans was deemed unnecessarily cruel, so… OK, I got it.  After the Upper Levels – HFIL and the Saiyan level, there's Neter-khertet, Hades, the Inferno of Dante, and then you get to the Lower Realms."

Goku grinned.  "Thanks Nappa.  Don't worry.  We won't get back without both of them."

"I'm certainly not worried," Bardock smiled.  "The Prince of all Saiyans and my ascended son can do anything."

Impatient, Vegeta had already left the chatting Saiyans, so Goku had to catch up.  Once Goku had bounded down the stairs to walk alongside the prince, Vegeta regarded his with a raised eyebrow.  "Tell me, Kakarrot.  Whatever happened to Mr. I'm-not-a-Saiyan-I'm-just-Goku?"

Goku laughed and shrugged.  "It was after I died the second time.  I kept my promise to visit my dead grandfather, and it turns out that he'd journeyed to Hell to see my true family long ago.  He forced me to visit my parents… and Raditz… and make peace.  I went to visit the Saiyan level pretty regularly ever since.  I know Mom's gonna be pissed that I didn't see her this time around."

Vegeta shook his head.  "You could have told me."

"I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"I hate surprises."

Goku rolled his eyes.  "Well, now we know what's ahead, so no more surprises."

"There had better not be," Vegeta said grumpily.  "We can't afford any delays."

A scream stopped the two dead in their tracks.  I reverberated on the walls, but seemed to pass above them as well.  They both recognized it instantly.

Jita.

Goku blanched white.  In all the reminiscence about visiting the place in which he'd spent quite a bit of his dead time, he'd almost forgotten…

"Yeah," Goku said weakly.  "No time to waste."

With that, the two surged forward into the Middle Realms of Hell.

                                                     *****

Dende twirled the leech's knife in his hand, holding it up for Piccolo, Gohan, and Trunks, the slightly reddened blade catching the light ever so slightly.  The young kami had almost washed the blood off, but Mr. Popo had stopped him just in time.  The older servant was now searching through a number of books most people didn't even know he owned.

"I talked to King Kai," Dende continued his report wearily.  "He didn't really know what to make of it, and the Leech-fighter Pikkon barely recognized it."

"Pikkon," Gohan interrupted.  "Isn't he the one that Dad mentioned fighting sometimes?"

"Yes," Dende affirmed.  "They were friends, and slight rivals, though nothing like him and Vegeta.  They worked together to keep peace in the afterlife.  In life, Pikkon had fought and killed three leeches before the creatures could take acolytes.  He dealt the finishing blow to two who had taken acolytes, and killed the resulting acolytes-turned-leech.  He was finally killed by a leech, so he knows a good bit about the creatures.  Says this blade probably comes from a fairly new order, before his time."

Mr. Popo cleared his throat and murmured under his breath.

Dende sighed.  "Popo, however, disagrees."

"Listen to him, kid," Piccolo said.  "Mr. Popo is about the oldest person I know in the living universe.  He's also the greatest expert in artifacts you can find anywhere.  He has a better understanding of the dragonballs than any of us, even the creators of the things."

"I think I've found it," Mr. Popo exclaimed.  "I'm sure of it.  It's very VERY old, and not of leech design either…"

Trunks was barely paying attention to Popo's voice.  All he could do was stare at the knife, twirling in Dende's hands, covered in Goten's dried blood…

… covered in blood…

_His father stood in the wind and ki-swept desert, the remains of Babadi's ship mere bits of metal that looks oddly like silver confetti.  Trunks looked fearfully at the man he'd just pulled out of the horrible, putty-like pink substance that he been wrapped around him by the cartoon-like monster._

_"Papa?" he queried.  Oh, kami, he was covered in BLOOD.  Not the usual fare that normal training sessions brought.  These were wounds cut deep, not for further strength, but to cause destruction.  To cause pain.  To kill.  Had it been merely the Buu monster who'd caused all this?_

_A hug enwrapped him, and for once he felt good and safe… TRULY good and safe.  He leaned into the warm bloody arms, relishing the feeling – the pure feeling of trust.  His father would never let him down… never hurt him… never strike him…_

_With an anguished shock, through the skill from his father's training, he saw his father's hand move inevitably toward his neck in a move of such violence and he could do nothing to stop it… nothing…_

"Trunks!  Wake up, Trunks!"

Trunks came shudderingly back to reality, the strikes on his face, not his neck.  And not from his father, either, but from Gohan.  Trunks let it happen until he found the presence of mind to grab Gohan's wrist.

Dende had stopped twirling the knife.  In fact, it had been wrenched from his grasp by Mr. Popo as soon as he'd read the magical qualities of the blade and seen the hypnotic effects that were enslaving Trunks.  A few more seconds, and Trunks might not have been so easy to revive.

Dende grabbed Trunks's hand as the young man regained his composure, providing an anchor for Trunks to stop his spasmodic shaking.  "I'm sorry," Dende kept repeating.  "I'm SO sorry.  I didn't know…"

"It's ok," Trunks said weakly, almost fully recovering his body.  "I'm fine now."

"Well," Mr. Popo said briskly, relieved that no lasting damage had come to the demi-Saiyan.  What would happen if someone that powerful would truly lose his mind?  "Now we'll know not to irresponsibly handle unknown relics left behind by mysterious murderers."

Dende looked abashed, but at least he stopped apologizing.

"What's going on in here?"  Having heard the commotion, Bulma burst through the doors of the primary training area in which the gods and warriors were meeting.  Chichi wasn't far behind.  The only reason the rest of the group wasn't crowding in after the women, or attending the meeting, was simple.  No one else was there.  Tien and Chaotzu had taken Darjili home, Videl had taken Pan home, and Pecon had gone to meet the many Spider students that were congregating at the school.

"Everything's fine," Gohan replied.  "I thought you two were going home."

"Bull!"  Bulma immediately crossed the room to her son, feeling his forehead.  "You're white as a sheet, Trunks!  What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong now," Piccolo rumbled.  "He just discovered the hypnotic powers of the leech's blade.  We pulled him out just in time.  No danger came to him."

While Piccolo was quite a good liar, Bulma saw right through it.  "Well, you people be careful with that thing.  After all, it could kill a Super Saiyan… level three!"

She turned around at the sob from behind her.  Chichi had sunk into a simple wooden chair, her tears renewed at the fresh mention of her son's death.  Bulma rushed forward.  She'd been so upset with what could have happened to Trunks…  "Oh, Chichi, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean…"

Chichi waved her off.  "That's all right.  I'm… being silly.  Goten's not lost forever," she continued bravely.  "Goku's going after him.  Everything will be all right…"

As Bulma led Chichi back outside of the room, knowing discussion of her son's murder instrument would only upset her further, Piccolo nodded to Mr. Popo.  "You were saying?"

Mr. Popo laid the weapon down carefully to turn a page in his book.  "This is a knife used by some of the first kais, long before even the time of Rou Dai Kaioshin that came from the Z Sword.  I wonder…" Popo trailed off, "if one of those kais could have been turned to a leech, or even been the original leech, and the leech that we've met could be an ancestor from said kai."

Gohan cocked his head.  "Wouldn't such a lineage produce a creature that would have destroyed the universe before Buu and the wizard Bibidi could even get a chance to?"

Dende shook his head.  "What you have to understand is the time frame.  For one, there's the dormancy of a thousand years once an acolyte ascends into a leech.  The leech has ridiculous longevity, but he must not be killed before he's ready.  I guess that's why the dimension that only a leech can use – to give them a hiding place if needed until time."

"Also," Piccolo continued, "the power levels were not as high as they are now.  Life had not truly been created on all worlds, and the majority of worlds for a long time were only inhabited by single-celled organisms.  That would discourage any radical energy-collection.  This leech COULD very easily be a descendant of that very lineage, judging from the knife."

"Or," Popo continued, "he could be a very clever and ambitious thief.  Who knows who's been guarding this, and where it's been?"

"There is one thing, though," Gohan said gravely.

"What's that?" Trunks asked, not even daring to look at the knife, afraid of going into another flashback.

"That leech KNOWS he's going to win."  Gohan looked at the knife, which had been arrogantly left in his brother's corpse.  "Otherwise he wouldn't have left such a valuable possession.  He knows he can get it back from us."

Piccolo nodded.  "We'll just have to use it against him."

And the others went back to strategy and planning.  Anything to keep them from thinking of the two Saiyans trapped in Hell, and the other two trying to get them back.

                                                           *****

_There's no way I can let this happen._

Jita surged to her feet from the floor of Frieza's throne room and main audience chamber, surrounded by those she hated… despised… and in some way pitied.  They were all victims of the Lizard King.  But they didn't understand.__

Jita faced the one she loved.  The only one who could ever love her.  But was he joining her in the path that she was so sure was right?  Hell, no.  He was facing her… not in fraternal love, but in combat.__

_There's no way I can let this happen._

She was going to die by her brother's hands.  By those hands that had held her on those too few times that they needed to stave off cold… or hunger… or…__

_… pain…_

It went ripping through her as the merciless beams cut into her skin.  It wasn't so much the pain anymore.  She could handle that.  She'd felt far worse in friendly spars.  It was her brother's eyes going slowly into murderous intent.  She was going to die…__

_There's no way I can let this happen._

The sentence kept her going.  She wanted to simply give up and die.  Surely even Hell could be better than having a brother who was willing to kill her for that lizard.  But she kept fighting anyway.  She deflected blow after blow, both of ki and flesh, and traded some of her own.  Until…__

… that foot…__

… her brother… breaking his vow… going Oozaru…__

Her entire body crunched, like a roach tread on by a stiff-soled shoe.  Her bones collapsed, and all that was left was a dim awareness of her brother – now himself – staring over her.  She heard herself cursing and swearing vengeance…__

_… vengeance…_

_THERE'S NO WAY I CAN LET THIS HAPPEN!!_

Jita surged to her feet from the floor of her familiar Hell and attacked the image of Vegeta.  She knew it wasn't him.  It was Him.  The Voice.  Her tormenter.  Her almost-master.  And she, his unwilling slave.__

She pressed her attack, ripping and flesh and hitting the oh-so-solid figure in every way she knew how to deal pain.  Not only pain, but the closest to death-agony one could experience while still living.  _He'll regret teaching me that_, she thought in vehement triumph.__

His presence left, fleeing from the body as she finished serving the worst of the damage.  She halted her attack, staring down at the broken form of her beloved.__

"Goten," her voice cracked out.__

All illusion left, and she sat next to the bleeding and pain-wracked form of her husband, who took no notice of her.  It was all her fault.  She knew he'd followed her.  She knew the Voice had plucked him out, by the strings that tied husband and wife.  And she knew that he would torment them both for all eternity.__

_But no!  I'll fight Him.  I have to.  I'll fight Him as long as I still have strength in me, and even after that.  He won't hurt my husband.  He won't.  There's no way…_

**_THERE'S NO WAY I CAN LET THAT HAPPEN_, the Voice supplied mockingly.__**

Suddenly, the illusions shifted, and it all began again.__

                                                              *****

**RRREEAOOOWWRRR!!**

Vegeta hissed and drew back, just as the unfortunate creature he'd trod upon did the same.  "Kakarrot," Vegeta said, trying to control his breathing from the shock of stepping on something very furry and warm.****

"Yes, Vegeta?" Goku replied, picking up the creature that Vegeta had stepped on and petting it.****

"Why is Hell **covered in CATS?!"******

The feline in Goku's arms hissed suddenly and crawled up the Saiyan's shoulders to the back of his neck.  Unperturbed, Goku pried the shaking cat from his neck and began comforting it.  "Aww, it's all right, little guy.  He didn't mean to scare you.  Vegeta, shame on you.  I thought you didn't pick on poor defenseless little creatures any more.  It didn't do anything to hurt you."****

Vegeta snorted.  "Cats are NOT defenseless.  That thing nearly clawed my leg up."****

"Well, how would you feel if someone stepped on YOUR tail?" Goku retorted, putting the cat down.****

"Not funny, Kakarrot," Vegeta warned, kicking the cat to the next wheat-covered island.****

"What do have against cats, anyway?"****

Vegeta started following Goku, hopping the islands, trying to avoid the cats that seemed to prowl everywhere.  "I am NOT a cat person, Kakarrot."****

"But you live at Capsule Corp…" Goku began.****

"I barely tolerate cats there, but I make it clear that I don't like them."  Vegeta smirked wryly.  "Sure did make it difficult to explain when I accidentally killed that cat that was always hanging off Dr. Briefs's coat…  I think it was the loss of that cat that killed him."****

Goku scratched his head.  "I thought he died from lung cancer years after that…"****

"Kakarrot, you still haven't answered my question!  Where are we, Cat Hell?!"****

Goku shrugged off the sudden change in subject.  "Nope, but close.  This is Neter-khertet, the Egyptian underworld.  Egyptians worshipped cats, and a lot got mummified.  It's a good thing that it's night in Egypt, so we can just go against where the sun is headed."****

"Kakarrot…" Vegeta said slowly, calming down now that they had left the cats behind, "I know I don't pay attention to the cycles of Earth much, but wouldn't we need to go WITH the sun?  It goes from east to west.  We want to go west, remember?"****

Goku had pulled one of the wheat stems from an island and was now chewing on it absently.  "Not here, it doesn't.  See, the sun goes from east to west in Egypt, so it has to finish going in a circle in the underworld."****

Vegeta sweatdropped.  "Kakarrot, you know that doesn't make any sense."****

Goku grinned, pushing the wheat stem to one side of his mouth.  "Doesn't have to.  This is Hell.  Well… THIS place is called Aaru.  It's like Egyptian heaven.  That's why there's so many cats here.  Cats are animals.  They can't be evil, so they get sent to the good part of the afterlife.  All the people must be somewhere else right now.  Over there," he pointed, "next to that desert is Duat.  That's where Osiris lives and judges souls.  Around there should be the staircase to the next level."  Goku paused in thought.  "Wonder if Osiris is even there.  Depends on what season it is in Egypt."****

Vegeta shook his head.  "That's it!  I give up on logic.  Nothing will ever make sense when you're around, and I may as well give in to the insanity while I still have my wits intact."****

Goku clapped Vegeta on the back, who glared at him for such familiarity.  "That's the spirit, Vegeta."****

After the two passed the wheat-covered fields of Aaru, they came upon a bizarre sort of check-in station made entirely of wood.  Behind it stretched a seemingly endless desert of sand.****

"Hey, Ament!" Goku shouted into the station.  A bored-looking Egyptian woman within the booth shook awake suddenly, dropping her copy of _Cleopatra's Guide to Beauty After Death.****_

"Oh, my," the greeter of the dead exclaimed.  "Goku, I told you never to do that!  Ever since you knocked down my tree and I had to make it into this ugly booth…"****

The goddess collected herself.  "Osiris isn't here right now," she said, turning back to her magazine.  "You may see him down a level."****

"Thanks, Ament!" Goku shouted cheerily.  The two walked toward the staircase, Vegeta casting dubious glances behind him.****

Ament sat up in her chair.  "Oh, and watch out for the…"****

A metal crashing sound filled the air as Vegeta sank almost through the ground.  He looked around wildly as to the cause of the floor suddenly giving way underneath him, and spotted a huge scale, with a mere feather at the other end.****

"… the Feather of Truth," Ament finished weakly.****

Goku laughed at his rival's predicament.  "You better be glad Osiris isn't here.  He'd have you down Ammit's throat before you could even think!"****

Through the logic he had sworn off, Vegeta reasoned out the purpose of the scale, going along with most other underworld mythology, and shot a murderous look at Goku.  "Not another word, Kakarrot," he growled warningly.****

Goku could still be heard laughing as the two made their way down the staircase into the next level.****

                                                           *****

If He had flesh any longer, and bone, He would feel the coming of the two warriors.  It teased Him with slowness, provoked Him with promise of power…

Power…

He was a Voice alone, with no flesh and bone, no substance, but all reality.  Locked away in the prison He subjected to others, most of the time for spite.  If He was going to suffer, He would not do it alone.

Until Jita.

In Jita, He'd seen His chance.  While His plans of imprisoning both brother and sister had not worked, the new events unfolding provided for more power than He could EVER have planned.  The opportunity to begin His reign of the universe anew with not the power of two Super Saiyans… but FOUR…  If He'd had breath, it would have taken His breath away.

_Patience_, He told Himself.  _Listen to what you've taught Jita._

The Voice laughed, poking the two Saiyans under His mercy again, watching them writhe in pain and torment and memories.  He really didn't need to fabricate anything.  There was enough pain that was real and had already happened to them and their loved ones and all He really needed to do was to remind them.

_Soon I'll have them right where I want them.  They'll play their part, I'll suck them dry, leave this Hellhole, kill the one who imprisoned me here, and then…_

_… ah, sweet bliss…_

To feel some of the bliss already, He gave a mighty twist to His torment, sending husband and wife into sobbing convulsions.

                                                           *****

Vegeta collided against Goku's back as the taller Saiyan came to an abrupt stop on the narrow staircase.  "What now?!" he growled.  He looked past Goku's shoulder.

"Well, of course," Vegeta laughed sarcastically.  "Hell already has a playground, my home world, islands full of cats, and a desert.  Why not a river?"

"Hey, you!" an old man pushed past them.  "Get out of my way!  Don't you see I have a ferry to operate?  Some of us have jobs, you know!"

"Do you have any idea to whom you're talking?" Vegeta asked, dangerously calm.

The old man stopped halfway on the steps to his ferry and turned back to glance at the Saiyans.  "Well," he said after a moment of consideration, "you're not dead, and you're not Greek or Roman either.  You don't even look human.  That means you have no business here."

"Aw, come on, Charon," Goku said easily.  "You don't really mean that, do you?"

Charon's eyes focused on Goku.  "Oh, so you're back.  Well, if you think that you're getting any free rides across Acheron, you have another thing coming.  Where's that obulus you promised me the last time?  Conveniently forgot it on the Grand Kai's world, did ya?  Well, get on already.  You're rude friend, too.  I can't wait all day!"

The two blinked for a moment, but got on anyway.  Once Charon started the ferry going, he regarded Goku.  "You're Saiyan, aren't you?"  Goku nodded, and Charon looked back at the river, steering to the other side.  "I should have noticed it a long time ago.  You Saiyans put me out of work.  Ever since those Saiyans started guarding the gates to the Middle Realms, no new souls can get past.  Pretty soon, all we'll be known for is mythology taught in school books.  Only people I ever ferry across anymore are Hellfighters.  Ungrateful young 'uns they are.  I haven't seen one shine of an obulus since the third rearrangement of Hell.  Heck near forgot what one looks like.  And another thing…"

Charon looked up, realizing that he had reached the other side, and he was now talking to himself.  Perturbed, he turned the ferry around and continued muttering.  "Ungrateful young 'uns.  Hope Cerberus eats 'em."

The two Saiyans were no longer listening to the ferry of the dead.  Oh, no.  They were much more involved in their next obstacle.

"Well, Kakarrot," Vegeta said quietly out of the corner of his mouth, barely daring to move a muscle, "what do you propose we do now?"

Goku's visage hardened in determination as hot breath washed over him, ruffling his stiff hair.  He stooped down to the ground, feeling around in the dirt without taking his eyes off the monster he was facing.  Finally his hand closed on a femur (possibly human).  Ever so slowly, he raised up to a slight crouch and said,

"HERE, BOY!  GO FETCH!"

Vegeta watched in amazement as the slobbering three-headed dog that had been towering over them, growling menacingly, suddenly let out triple yelps of delight and jumped for the bone.  The middle head snatched it up, but Goku was quick to answer with two other bones before there was too much trouble among the heads.  The dog suddenly tackled Goku, all three heads vying for the opportunity to affectionately lick the laughing Saiyan.

"Good Cerberus!" Goku exclaimed, trying to regain his feet under the slobbery assault.  "Good dog!  Yeah, I missed you too, boy."

Vegeta shook his head.  "Kakarrot, I believe that you could befriend the thunder and lightning and invite them over to dinner."

Goku finally got the hellish hound calmed down a bit.  "What was that, Vegeta?"

Vegeta sighed and made sure there was enough distance between him and Cerberus, should the dog decide to start a game of catch with him.  "Nothing, Kakarrot.  We're wasting time.  If you're done playing with your 'little' friend…"

Goku gave all three heads of Cerberus one final pat on the nose(s).  "Alright, Vegeta.  I'm coming."

The two walked along a river, finally delving into their share of King Yemma's peaches.  "Kakarrot," Vegeta said slowly, tossing the pit of his peach into the river, "for Hell, there sure doesn't seem to be enough dead people around."

Goku frowned and took the last bite of his peach.  "You know, I've noticed that.  Something must be scaring them into hiding.  I thought at first it was us, but people here are used powerful creatures.  There must be something else…"

Goku was about to drop his peach pit on the ground, when a strange man made out of metal approached him.  "No littering along the banks of the river Styx."

Vegeta looked the machine over and snorted.  "You've got too much time on your hands."

The robot clankily shrugged.  "I'm just a blue-collar man."

By this time Goku had found a waste receptacle.  "Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto," he called after him.

Because Goku was still so well-known, the two Saiyans passed Hecatonchires without any trouble (Goku being friendly with about 45 of the 50 heads), into Tartarus.  Vegeta only half-listened while Goku prattled on about how the demons had had to make Hades narrower and put Tartarus along the path leading to Hades' palace and Elysium.

In order to not attract attention, the two avoided flying.  While they could pretty much take care of any of the Titans and other monsters that would give them trouble, it would take more time than simply walking.  Though, when the ground they were walking on sloped up into a steep hill, the going went a bit more tedious.  

"Kakarrot, do you really think that ANY challenger could take more time than this?  I mean, this hill just goes on forever!"

"Tell me about it!" came a voice from Vegeta's other side.  "Try pushing a boulder up sometime."

Vegeta turned to regard the burly man, dressed in a Grecian costume, struggling with a boulder about five times his size.  "Why would that make any difference?" he retorted.

The man, looking indignant, almost fell under the weight of the rock when he tried to give Vegeta a piece of his mind.  "Watch out, Sisyphus!" Goku yelled just in time.

Sisyphus quickly regained his footing.  "Thanks, Goku.  Didn't know you were dead again."

"I'm not."

Vegeta was still staring at the boulder.  "Why exactly are you pushing a boulder up a hill?"

Sisyphus sighed.  "I ask the same question.  I mean, ok, there was some stealing… and a little killing… but that's no reason to treat me like this!  Some of those up in the first level have done far worse than me, and they just sit around all day!  They have the nerve to call THAT agony!"

Vegeta smirked.  "If they ever tried to get ME to do that for all eternity, know what I'd do?"

"What?" Goku and Sisyphus said together.

Next thing Sisyphus knew, the weight he'd born through all eternity was lifted from him.  In a flash of light, the physical source of his torment was disintegrated at the hands of the Saiyan prince, leaving only a few specks of dust behind.

"Of course," Vegeta continued, "I'd include the people assigning punishments along with that blast, but that was the general ide…  HEY!  GET OFF ME!!"

Goku pulled back the damned Greek, who looked like he still wanted to hug Vegeta.  "Thank you!" Sisyphus exclaimed in a combination of joy and disbelief.  "I'm free!  How can I ever repay you?!"

Vegeta dusted himself off.  "Never do THAT again, or I'll have to carve you out another boulder."

Sensing that they'd done enough damage, Goku and Vegeta left the sobbing Sisyphus.  Goku regarded Vegeta in a slightly new light.  "Vegeta, that was really decent of you."

Vegeta shrugged.  "What?  You think I made any difference, did you?"

As he was talking, an even larger boulder rolled past them as they reached the summit of the hill.  The unmistakable sound of the huge rock colliding with the unfortunate Sisyphus could be heard, as well as the shouted question "WHY?!!"

"No, I guess not," Goku replied.

The two neared a mysterious grove of trees overhanging a pristine pool of water.  "Ah-ah," Goku said, steering his direction to bypass the oasis.  "Let's try not to bother Tantalus.  He has enough problems."

"Like what?" Vegeta said absently.

"Like being surrounded by food and water, and never able to eat or drink, no matter how hungry and thirsty he gets."

Vegeta shuddered in spite of himself.  Of everything he'd seen so far, THAT was the closest to Hell he'd come across.  Spooked by the thought of anyone suffering such a fate, he gave the flaming wheel of Ixion a violent spin ("AAAAUUUUGGGHHHH") and was more than happy to leave Tartarus.

Suddenly Goku shouted, "Hey!  Olibu!  Over here!"

The violet-eyed hero approached them.  "That's Hercules, here, remember?  No one messes with me if I go by Hercules."

Goku nodded.  "What are you doing down here?"

Olibu shook his head.  "Someone trying to market a new type of bottled water in the Otherworld.  Took on the slogan 'Forget all your troubles.'  No kidding, since they're getting the water from Lethe.  Listen, if you're going on remember that Hades is having his poker game, and the women are there too.  Knock before you go into the palace."

"We'd heard," Vegeta said dryly.

In a flash, Olibu ran in the other direction.  "Hey you!  With the bottling machine!  Stop right there!"

                                                           *****

"Hey Vegeta," Goku said as they walked up the stairs to the palace.

"What is it, Kakarrot?"

"You may be surprised at who's at the poker game, if it's still the regulars."

"Kakarrot," Vegeta said offhandedly, "I have seen so much in Hell – ALL levels – that nothing will surprise me in the least."

Goku shrugged.  "Well, don't blame me for surprising you this time."  With that, he knocked at the majestic door.

After waiting for a few moments, the door slowly opened to show a petite woman with dark hair.  It didn't take even that long for Vegeta to go flying onto the ground, tackled by said woman.

"Vegeta!"

"Mother?!"

                                                           *****

The Saiyan King sighed.  "I don't know why we play this idiotic human mortal game."

The Egyptian god Osiris laughed and patiently put his fallen ear back on his head.  "You're only saying that because you're losing."

King Vegeta quirked his eyebrow up at Osiris.  "Stop gloating, O Dismembered One.  You're not the one who is winning."  He shook his head.  "I fold."

The stern, dark-haired god sitting next to him shook his head as well and threw down his cards in exasperation.  "Even in my own kingdom… you'd think I could win more than this."

Osiris rolled his eyes (carefully).  "It's your fault for inviting him in the first place.  You should have stuck with Satan.  HE only burns up the cards.  Instead of…"

The final member of the card game showed his hand and began scraping the winnings with a skeletal arm from the middle of the table.

"A bluff!" King Vegeta said incredulously.

"What do you expect from the best poker face anywhere?"  Hades stared into the fathomless hood of the winning player, Death.

"Just as long as we don't play Battleship," Death said mysteriously.

"Hon?" a sugar-sweet voice came from behind Hades as fair arms curled around his neck.

Hades sighed.  "Persephone, didn't we agree that if all the women were here, we'd leave each other in peace?"

Persephone backed away from him and crossed her arms.  "It's not like you notice me, or anything else, when you're playing cards.  Every time a mortal trespasses in this realm, it's because you're playing cards."

Cards went flying as Hades missed at shuffling the deck.  "Mortals?!  Where?!"

"Here," Persephone said with a note of triumph in her voice.  "In the palace."

Hades growled and picked up his bifurcated weapon.  "Send these mortals in," he said with due menace.

"Who are you calling 'mortals'?"

King Vegeta jumped at the voice, staring seemingly into a mirror.  "V-vegeta?!"

Goku and Vegeta walked into the room, accompanied by Queen Okakra, Isis, and Death's Mistress.  "I was wondering when you'd sense their presence," Okakra told her husband with a smirk.

Vegeta approached his father, regardless of the various gods and goddesses inhabiting the room, and bowed slightly.  "Father, my King."

Goku's eyes widened.  He had NEVER seen Vegeta give so much deference to… well… anyone.  He realized that this was the only person in existence that Vegeta considered to be higher in rank than himself.  Goku shifted uncomfortably.  "Umm… hi, everyone."

King Vegeta turned to his host.  "Hades, if you will excuse us…"

"Of course," the god of the underworld replied.

Goku watched the royal family leave the room and grinned.  He was certainly happy to see Vegeta reunited with his family after all these years.

"Goku," Hades said in the uncomfortable silence.  "It's been a long time.  Last I saw you, you were battling the monster Buu… alive."

Goku nodded.  "Yeah… a kai gave his life to give me life.  It was kind of a spur of the moment thing."

Isis walked over to her husband and helped him but one of his hands back on his arm.  "At least your wife didn't have to go all over everywhere searching for body parts."

Osiris grumbled.  "And you still can never find one of them."

Isis smirked.  "But we get by, don't we?  Besides, imagine if THAT kept falling off like all your other parts."

Osiris blushed and nodded.  Goku gave a quizzical look to Persephone, who just shook her head and gave him a look that said 'you don't want to know.'

"What does bring you to the afterlife before my visit to you, Kakarrot?" Death said.

Goku rolled his eyes at Death's insistency of calling him by his birth name (just to keep his records straight).  "Rescue," he replied.  "You visited Jita and Goten recently, didn't you?"  Death nodded.  "Well, they're in the Lower Realms right now and can't get out.  We're going the long way around to surprise the Lord of the Lower Realms."

Death's Mistress shuddered.  "Be on your guard around that one.  He's… creepy."

Coming from the frightening woman immortalized in a VERY creepy scene from a Coleridge poem, this was certainly a warning to be heeded.

"Do you think my helmet will be of any help," Hades said thoughtfully.

Goku smiled.  "Thanks, but nah.  There's two of us, and I don't think the Voice will be fooled by your invisibility helmet."

The royal family suddenly swept out of the private room that hosted their reunion.  Both Vegetas were in extremely bad tempers, and Okakra looked as pale as a ghost, quite a feat considering she had the tannest skin Goku had ever seen on a Saiyan.

"Come on, Kakarrot," Vegeta growled.  "Let's get the Hell out of here."

Goku looked like he was about to protest, concern pouring from his eyes, was stopped at the look of Vegeta's face.  He quickly bid everyone goodbye and led them both to the stairway to the next level, which simply looked like some stairs leading to the basement of the palace.

"Heed my warning, my son," King Vegeta called after him.

Vegeta paused in his tracks, not even looking back.  "You never acknowledged her anyway.  Why did I think you would be any different now that you're dead?"

King Vegeta's visage hardened.  "That tailless fool dug her own grave.  Get Kakarrot's son, and then get out of there.  The universe isn't worth that deformed child."

Queen Okakra glared murderously at her husband.  "Do what you have to do, my son," she said slowly and evenly.

Vegeta looked back at his mother and gave a sad nod.  Then, without any further words, he descended the dark stairway.

Goku watched as his prince left him behind.  Making sure he was out of earshot, the Saiyan faced off with the father of his rival.  "My king," he said coldly, making anyone who knew the cheerful Goku jump, "kami knows I'm not the one to give advice on being a father, but I know what it's like to alienate a son.  I just hope he's not lost to you… for your sake."

With that, Goku followed his prince, leaving a stunned king in his wake.

                                                           *****

_Please… I'll do anything._

Physical pain racked Jita's body, forcing her to her knees.  But she had long since moved past physical pain.  It didn't overcome her.  She still cradled her husband's body in her arms.  She refused to let go.  She had to save him… somehow.__

_Please… I'll do anything._

Guilt poured down upon Jita as she came face to face with the people whose lives she had destroyed without a thought or a tear.  Thousands… millions… billions…  Each face and race burned into her psyche from long ago – all pointing at her – accusing her – suffering and dying at her hands…  But she had long since moved past the guilt.  It didn't overcome her.  She was still holding her husband's body in her arms.  She refused to let go.  She had to save him… somehow.__

_Please… I'll do anything._

The deadly tendrils of illusion clouded Jita's vision, and in her arms she beheld all that was evil… all that she hated.  The form of Frieza… the visage of each elite who had raped her as a child… demons and creatures tainted by the very depths of Hell… the very man who killed her and took her son…  But she saw through the illusion, had long moved past it.  It didn't overcome her.  She continued to rock her husband's body in her arms.  She refused to let go.  She had to save him… somehow.__

_Please… I'll do anything._

Soon visions were overtaking Jita.  Visions of…__

_Oh…_

_No!  Please… I'll do anything._

Jita was overcome.__

                                                           *****

"Abandon all hope, you who enter here."

Vegeta hmphed at the sign over the gates.  "Well, that's cheerful.  What did Nappa call this place again, Kakarrot?"

Goku eyed his friend cautiously.  He'd tried to get him to talk about the less than happy reunion with his father, but Vegeta was acting like it hadn't happened at all.  "Dante's Inferno," he replied.

Vegeta nodded.  "I think I remember Jita reading that.  She said it was full of crap."

Goku frowned.  "I remember Gohan going on and on about that.  He really liked it.  I thought that it was a classic."

Vegeta shook his head.  "No, that's not what I mean.  I meant that most of the punishments in the book involved feces."

"Oh!"  Goku grinned.  "Well, that book was right about that!"

Vegeta groaned.  "Hopefully, this stuff won't talk to us, like inside Buu," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Kakarrot."

The two entered the gate and walked through the Ante-Inferno, where the souls who could commit neither good nor evil in life were chasing after a banner.  Hornets chased after them, and the people were covered with worms.

"Hey, that's supposed to be a blank banner," Goku said.  Instead, someone had apparently written "Kilroy was here."  Above the inscription was the figure of a head with his nose over a fence.  Some demons were chasing after the banner in order to wipe off the graffiti, but to no avail.  They could do neither good nor evil either.

"Hey, you young 'uns gettin' on the ferry or what?"

Vegeta did an actual double take, for there was Charon, looking just as old and as ornery as ever.  "Weren't you just…" Vegeta began.

"Y'ever hear of someone being so busy they're at two places at once?  Well, I'm so NOT busy that I can do the same thing," Charon responded, used to having to explain his double existence.  "Besides, it's all in the book."

Vegeta and Goku boarded the ferry… again… and waiting through the old man's harangue.

"And don't you think of runnin' off without so much as an "o river."  I know your type.  Yer just impatient, that's all.  Ye got a lot to learn, if ye think that you'll get there any faster by runnin'.  Time works different here.  Sometimes ya meet yerself comin' and goin'."  

As soon as the accent reached new levels of stereotype, the Saiyans had jumped off the ferry and reached the other side of Acheron without any trouble.

"Dagnabit!" the ferryman exclaimed.  "They did it to me again!"

The two walked through Limbo pretty quickly, meeting with no resistance from the various dead poets, and the annoying rasta music spurring them onward faster.  They hopped into a small hole in the ground, leading to the next circle of the Inferno.

"Ow!" Goku said indignantly, rubbing his head.  "Why's the ceiling so low?"

Vegeta looked up slightly.  While Goku was having to stoop over, only the tip of Vegeta's hair was brushing the top.  He shook his head, long since giving up on feeling angry about something that he couldn't control, such as height.  "Well," he theorized, "Zarbon said that all the circles were stuffed into one level.  There are, what, nine circles?  That makes for very little space if you want to keep it a descent."

Goku glared at the low ceiling, still rubbing his head.  Then he looked ahead and spotted the check-in monster.  "Hey, Minos!  How's the headroom?!"

The rather large monster grumbled.  He didn't like all the jokes lately, as well as the fact that he hadn't been comfortable for years.  Out of spite, he curled his tail around himself nine times.

"Aw, don't be like that, Minos," Goku said lightly.  "I hate the cold."

Before the cramped monster could respond the two Saiyans were past him and watching the Lustful go around in a storm.

Vegeta snorted.  "Why isn't your annoying old master in there, Kakarrot?"

Goku frowned.  "That's not very nice.  Master Roshi was harmless."

"Tell that to all those women who sued him for sexual harassment," Vegeta laughed.

They didn't stay there long.  Goku was longing to get out of that circle, and hoped that the next one wasn't so short.  Pretty soon, they got to the dropoff.

However, the Third Circle had even less head room, as all the inhabitants were prone in mud.  Two demons, noting that Goku and Vegeta were just passing through, gave each of them an umbrella to protect them from getting coated in the filth and feces that rained down.

"Who gets punished here?" Vegeta asked.

"The Gluttonous," one of the demons said with a wicked grin.

Goku and Vegeta eyed each other with wide eyes.  Needless to say, they flew through that circle.

In the Fourth Circle, they dodged the boulders being thrown by the Avaricious and the Prodigal.  When one ran after Vegeta with an extremely large rock – one that could have rivaled Sisyphus's, Vegeta merely knocked him out with a burst of ki.

In the Fifth Circle, Goku and Vegeta watched as the Wrathful and the Sullen struggled with each other and laid in the river Styx choking in the mud, respectively, all to an 80's rock soundtrack.

Vegeta looked toward the fourth wall.  "I think we'd better leave before we have more jokes repeated."

Goku suspiciously eyed the direction that Vegeta was looking, nodded, and walked past the city Dis on to the next circle.  Being a regular, Goku had no problem getting past the demons.

The Sixth Circle, house of the Heretics, went by just as quickly.  But the Seventh Circle… that was the one that took forever.

"This is ridiculous," Vegeta commented.  "Violent to ART?  Violent to nature?  If all this was as strict as they make it out to be, BOTH of us would be in that boiling blood, or even as trees, if they'd count your death with Raditz as a suicide."

Goku shook his head.  "That's medieval Christians for you.  They'll kill anyone who takes their land, but just you watch out if your "morals" behind violence aren't right."

Vegeta eyed Goku.  "Kakarrot… when did you get so perceptive?"

Goku turned around and scratched the back of his head.  "I don't know what you mean, Vegeta," he said cluelessly.

Vegeta snorted and shook his higher opinion of Goku's intelligence out of his head.  _Must have imagined it._  "Let's get out of here, Kakarrot," he said shortly.

If the Seventh Circle was long, the Eighth Circle seemed unending.  And the punishments got even more obnoxious.  They walked through the First Pocket of Panderers and Seducers, all being flogged; then there was the Second Pocket of Flatterers, with more crap; then the Third Pocket with Simoniacs ("What are Simoniacs anyway?"  "I don't know, Kakarrot."), with the incredibly complicated punishment of baptismal fonts and hotfoot; next the Fourth Pocket of Astrologists and Diviners, all walking with their heads on backwards ("'Scuse me."  "Pardon me."  "I beg your pardon."); after that the Fifth Pocket where Barrators are torn apart by demons ("Well, THAT'S imaginative."); the Sixth Pocket, with the Hypocrites walking around in circles in leaden robes ("Where do they come up with this stuff?!"); the Seventh Pocket, with the thieves turning into vipers ("Now THAT'S actually funny."  "Just don't get bitten, Vegeta."  "OW!"  "Darn it!"); as soon as they could get Vegeta-snake to bite someone else and regain his form, they went through the Eighth Pocket with the False Counselors, then the Ninth Pocket, then the Tenth Pocket…

"Are we done now, Kakarrot?" Vegeta said, on edge.   "If I have to see another Sower of Scandal or Falsifier with open wounds or diseases…"

Goku nodded, himself a little green.  "That's just wrong.  I think I'm going to be sick…"

"Then get away from me!" Vegeta exclaimed.

Gratefully, the two dropped down into the final circle of the Inferno, which seemed to have lost its Inferno-ness.  The two powered up their ki ever so slightly, knowing they were taking a chance of being detected by the Lord of the Lower Realms, not knowing that it was a moot point by now… but they had to do something against the literally infernal cold of the Ninth Circle.  They trooped through people in every type of position in the frozen river of Cocytus and slunk past Lucifer, who was too busy with his everlasting meal of Judas, Cassius, and Brutus, and finally reached the river Lethe.

"We don't go through there," Goku said.  "That'll just lead us back to Earth."

Vegeta looked around, confused as to where the next step in their path would lie, which he realized was actually the last step, and spotted a narrow black staircase with a shimmering seal on it.

"We won't be affected by the seal," Goku continued quietly.  "King Kai told me a little while back that Baba put a spell on us to get us through the seal without breaking it or binding us in their.  We just have to keep our conscience clear, and not be tempted to join with the Voice, or anything."  Goku looked straight into Vegeta's eyes, regretting that he had to ask this question.  "Do you think you can handle that?"

Vegeta was about to rebuke his rival, angry that there was cause to ask that question, but he conceded after a moment.  "Yes, Kakarrot, I can handle it.  I'm… not going to sell my soul this time around."

Goku smiled at his friend, a bright smile of trust, and Vegeta winced.  He remembered quite clearly the first time Goku had given him that smile – and Vegeta had immediately betrayed him to go fight Buu alone.  Sometimes, there was nothing worse than to have Goku trust you.

Taking a deep breath, centering themselves, Goku and Vegeta walked slowly down the long stairway to the Lower Realms of Hell.

                                                     *****

_It's all over._

_I've tried._

_I can't save Goten._

_I can't do anything._

_I'm worthless._

_I've tried._

_It's all over._

_It's all over._

_It's all over._

_It's all…_

The mantra continued in Jita's head as she rocked, now perfectly alone.  The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell smiled.  It was almost time.__

                                                              *****

The two Saiyans reached the door at the end of the stairway to a door ringed by fire.  The fire burned, yet never consumed.  While a small blaze would never hurt two Super Saiyans of various levels, this was an unholy fire that seemed impossible to escape.

"Do we walk through the fire?" Vegeta asked quietly.

"Where else can we turn?" Goku answered.  With a sudden kick, the Saiyan downed to door and the two rushed in to the final level.

Sitting in a chair atop a dais, the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell leaned forward in anticipation as all his dreams fell into place.  He'd planned many things to say at this monumental moment, but all that flew aside as the perfect response filled his being and shot through his Voice:

"Showtime."

Author's Notes: I must thank all of my wonderful reviewers: **Omega5 (I'm sorry to all of you who got their pennames changed.  Now, on with thanks.  You've noticed that I've blended angst and humor again.  I don't know why, but believe me, there'll be plenty of straight angst to sink your teeth into.  And, yes, I couldn't help but put a few former villains in, but not Cell.  Oh well.  Hey, that rhymed!  And, finally, no I don't play Warcraft 3.  I'm too busy writing fanfiction.^_^), ****Silver Warrior (Umm, want to say something, but no spoilers… must repress… must repress…), **Dark Wolf** (without putting the "6" tag on.  I'm mostly annoyed for you.  No matter what they say, you ARE the original.  And I hope this chapter is enough shinzi-snap-sizzle for you, or whatever.), **funny-feijoa** (No, that wasn't exactly what I was going for with this story.  Bulma is more of a minor but necessary character, along with Trunks, Gohan, and the rest.  I… hope you have a better opinion of Chichi after reading my interpretation of her.), **tim333** (ah, yes.  You caught me in a blooper.  And I so remember that part of the manga too.  I always wondered if Goku ever kept his promise to find Grandpa Gohan after being killed by Cell.  It would make a great one-shot.  Hmm… *Poetess writes yet another idea in her standby list of fanfiction*.  I'm glad you caught exactly the feeling I was going for in the last chapter.  I actually took the flavor of the reaction from the reviews I got for the chapter before that, as well as remembering my own reactions to death.  All that coupled with characterizations and the phenomenon of people who have surpassed death, yet still haven't gotten over it.  And I'm rambling.  Anyway… hope you enjoyed this chapter.), and finally ****Tonifranz (heh-heh… I think I put the stuff about Mythic Descent at the beginning of the chapter.)**

To all of you, until next time.


	38. The Lower Realms

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes:  *Peeks from behind computer chair.*  No tomatoes?  No boos?  No flames for an absent author?  *Cautiously sits on chair.*  Good.  Now that I can write in safety, I'll explain about my long absence.  In a word: upper-level classes.  Actually, that's two words.  I am now a junior English major.  Let me tell you, nothing in the first two years of being an English major prepares you for upper level.  I know there's some majors that have the hardest class when you're a freshman so they can weed out the people who can't handle it.  Not so in the English department.  We get the easy classes first.  And THEN they hit us with things like… a novel every week.  Writing a poem every Thursday.  Reading five different history books.  And everything leading up to a huge final paper – in each class.  I swear I can't keep my sanity.  I never have time to write for pleasure any more.  And even when I do find time, I'm so tired of writing and reading that I just can't make myself actually do it.

Now that I've whined enough about my own problems, I'll get back on topic.  The chapter.  This is what I've been waiting a year to write.  The face-off with the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell.  Won't say any more about it.  Hope you enjoy.  And, as always, please leave a review.

Soul 37: The Lower Realms

Goku had worried that he would never recover from running through that heat.  It wasn't any ordinary fire that would barely leave a rash on Goku's tough body.  This was Hell's fire, and it was meant to burn anything.  However, Goku's thoughts were quickly dispelled as soon after he and Vegeta had walked a few feet in the Lower Realms.

Goku wrapped his arms around him.  "It'sssss FREEZING!!"  Goku's customary no-sleeved gi was doing nothing to protect his extremities from the bitter cold.

Vegeta forced his arms to his sides, not as willing to show susceptibility to the elements like his rival.  Vegeta's gi, however, did even less to warm him, not having the double weighted shirt like Goku.  For once he missed the Earth clothes he'd taken to occasionally wearing.  At least his usual style included a jacket.  "Strange," he commented, mostly to distract himself from the cold.  "Jita told me that it was always extremely warm down here, like a perpetual 90 degree spring day.  She was forever cold on Earth."

Goku forced his teeth to stop chattering enough to talk.  "T-then what is it?  Did someone forget to pay the heating bill?"

Vegeta chose to ignore that statement.  "It's Him.  The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell.  He's found another way to torment Jita."

Goku nodded.  "Well, we'll get her out of here soon enough," he said with a smile.

"Well, if it isn't our two valiant heroes, come to save the ones they love."

Goku and Vegeta whipped around as the deep baritone voice came out of nowhere.  Distracted by the cold, they hadn't taken time to survey their surroundings.  In truth, there wasn't much to see. The entire seemingly limitless area was black and shrouded in shadow and utter darkness, save for soft lighting that seemed to have no source surrounding the two Saiyans.

"Where is He?" Vegeta growled out.

Goku slowly turned his head, deep in concentration.  "I feel His power," he said quietly, "but it's all around.  It's like, it's coming from everywhere."

"This place is part of My power," the deep voice boomed again.  "While you are here, you cannot stand up to Me."

Off to the left, directly opposite where Goku and Vegeta had entered, the same soft unearthly glow melted into existence, revealing a raised dais, a simple yet elegant throne, and…

"I take it you're the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell," Goku stated matter-of-factly.

The Demon just smiled.  "I've found that most have thought it easier to simply call Me 'The Voice.'  Though that monicker doesn't exactly hold the… grandeur… of My power, it does get a bit tedious to use my full title in casual conversation."

The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell smiled down at Goku and Vegeta, who were bristling at the easy affability to this new enemy.

"You're certainly not what I expected," Vegeta spat out.

The appearance of the Voice was not like anyone would expect.  He was the picture of male effeminate beauty.  Fair shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes that slanted upwards ever so slightly, the top framed with delicate arching eyebrows and long lashes.  His skin was pale and flawless and practically shone with an unearthly radiance, aided by the strange lighting of the place.  Every feature of His face was delicate and in perfect proportion and symmetry.  He wore an elegant flowing outfit of red silk.  He looked like an elf who'd just stepped out of the pages of Tolkein, or perhaps a Greek statue come to life.

If only it weren't for His eyes…  Those horrible, cold, soulless, cruel eyes.  Vegeta had never seen eyes such as that.  Worse than Frieza.  Worse than any sadist he'd ever met.  In others, he'd always seen the flickers of emotion, even if the emotion only ranged from hatred to sadistic glee.  In those eyes, he saw nothing.  They were completely empty.

The Voice merely chuckled at Vegeta's comment.  "What were you expecting, Vegeta?  Horns and a pitchfork?  Robe and a scythe?  Or maybe purple, white, and a hoverchair."

Vegeta crossed his arms.  He wasn't going to let himself get baited.  "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting a bishouen.  What are you, the Lord or the Lady of the Lower Realms of Hell?"

The Voice let the sarcastic remark slide.  "Just a shell, Vegeta.  I just borrow whatever body I desire from my vassals.  Haven't you gotten over judging people by their appearance?  Here, appearance means nothing."  The Voice turned His soft smile to the other Saiyan.  "You're being awfully quiet, Goku.  I doubt you're frozen in terror from My power.  It's just not like you."

"You're powerful, all right," Goku said in a grim voice.  "But Your power is tied to others.  Is that what You do?  Leech from other people's powers?"

The Voice laughed.  "Funny you should say 'leech.'  I'm not exactly the one that killed them."

The Voice gestured to a platform, which had been gradually lighting up, where the dead couple lay.  It was as if everything was being carefully orchestrated, like a play that must carefully evoke certain responses in the audience.

Goku gasped, his eyes widening.  "…Goten…?"

Vegeta merely stared, his right eye twitching slightly.  Eyes were instinctively drawn to Goten, who was the worse for the wear.  He was unconscious, shirtless, and covered in deep, still-bleeding wounds.  Not a place seemed to be left unmarred.  Still, through his sleep he writhed in moaned, as if he were experiencing all his nightmares compressed into one.

And then there was Jita…

After a closer look, she was even worse off.  Not only was she covered in wounds too deep to heal without assistance, but her limbs looked mangled, jutting in wild positions.  Her clothing had also suffered from whatever fight – or beating – she'd had to endure.  Enough of her blue tournament gi remained to preserve her decency, but only just.  She was sitting upright, cross-legged, her back ram-rod straight, her eyes wide and unblinking, and lips moving slightly, as if mumbling to herself.

"Hmph," the Voice said in some amusement.  "She's been chanting that for ages.  _It's all over. It's all over.   I swear, she can be so melodramatic.  I mean, I just show her a couple of visions of her family in suffering, and she's spent.  No fighting spirit whatsoever.  Though I will give her one thing."  His perfect mouth drew up into a smirk.  "She didn't really give in until she saw Frieza offing you a couple of times.  Now that really got to her.  And to think, she actually hated you once.  She certainly has changed.  Why—"_

"SHUT UP!!"

As soon as Vegeta had yelled and launched himself into the air, he was down on the ground again – face down.  He tried his best to struggle up, but it was as if someone was literally draining all his will to try out of him.  He knew the feeling, too.  It had some elements of Jita's ki-barrier technique, but he also the same crushing weight he'd felt whenever he'd opposed Babadi as a Majin, only more so.  It was like his very soul was being drained, or perhaps ripped out.  _No_, he screamed in his head, _this can't happen again.  I won't let it._  

Dimly, he heard an angry tenor voice yell, "LET HIM GO!  NOW!" followed by an intense relief.  He surged to his feet, though a bit warily.

The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell yawned.  "Really, it's rude to attack someone in their own house.  Especially in this case, since you don't even have a chance, and make me show off my powers.  I wanted to keep things as civil as possible."

Vegeta bristled and set himself for another go at it.

"Oh, just try it, Vegeta," the Voice drawled.

Vegeta felt a flicker of the same soul-draining feeling, and stood down, his mind raging in frustration.  But if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that a frontal assault was usually not very effective… if not brain-dead stupid.

"How did You know we were coming?" Goku asked.

Vegeta turned in askance at this seemingly irrelevant question.  It certainly did seem annoying that they had gone to all that trouble of not being detected – hiding their power… taking the long way around…  But that didn't truly matter.  _What does it matter, Kakarrot?_ his thoughts conveyed to Goku.  Goku didn't respond.

The Voice smirked.  "Well, you'd be pretty cold-hearted not to come.  You could have been here sooner, but you took so many precautions that I just never had the opportunity to snatch you up.  However, if there's anything I've learned in the millennia I've spent in this place, it's patience.  I knew you'd be here eventually.  Heroes are so predictable."

"But why did you take Goten?" Goku fired off another question.

Vegeta nearly screamed in frustration.  He wanted to rip the effeminate man's head off, not interview him and give him opportunity to gloat.  Because that's all these explanations were.  Meaningless gloating.  _Kakarrot, what's wrong with you?!_

_Shh__, Vegeta, came the low quick reply.  _Don't know if he's a mind-reader or not.__

Vegeta's eyes widened slightly.  Goku was planning something, and it frustrated him to no end that there was no way he could find out about it.  Right now, it seemed that Goku was content simply to stall.  Hopefully, going with the flow would suffice.

_Of course, if that thing is a mind-reader, none of this matters anyway._

"… and besides, it's so much more fun to play with those two's emotions.  I mean, talk about your angst-filled relationships.  In fact, both of them are just chock-full of angst.  It's ironic that most of the agony they're going through is primarily self-induced.  I barely have to do anything."

Vegeta had missed most of the Voice's arrogant explanation, but he didn't care.  What did it matter why the sadistic cretin had decided to capture Goten?

Jita moaned suddenly, loudly, bringing everyone's attention back to the platform.

The Voice's smile widened.  "Well, what do you know?  She has a little left in her after all.  She senses you, you know, even if she's not truly aware of it yet.  This may be more fun than I thought.  Oh, and I wouldn't teleport if I were you, Goku," He said offhandedly.  "You'd be caught in the same trap as them, and I'm not sure if you can handle it."

Vegeta jerked his head to see if Goku had accidentally given his plan away, maybe by his fingers on his forehead when he thought the Voice wasn't looking.  But Goku was completely relaxed, not even in a fighting stance.  The look on his face, though, told Vegeta everything.  The Voice knew what Goku had been planning.

"You were right, Kakarrot," Vegeta growled.  "He is a mind-reader.  That makes things more difficult."

The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell practically choked in laughter.  "Huh.  Mind-reader?!  You think so little of Me, Vegeta?  My powers are beyond those of a simple telepath.  And as for the teleporting thing…?  Well, it was the most logical course of action for Goku to take."

Goku recovered his thoughts quickly.  _How are we supposed to free them?  We can't fight Him.  His ki… it's so far beyond anything I've ever felt.  And not just His ki…  It's this place.  It's giving Him the advantage, and us the disadvantage._

_Well, obviously, Kakarrot, since He's the lord of this realm._

_… Was I thinking too loud, Vegeta?_

_Yes._

_Oh.  Sorry._

_And your thoughts aren't helping.  Listen, Kakarrot, Jita and Goten are being held by the same type of ki barrier that Jita always uses.  I've been practicing on breaking that to rid Jita of such an advantage in spars.  I may be able to break it if you stall Him.  Just keep Him talking._

"Listen… if you're just going to stand there all day, I'm going to cut on some music or something.  This stare-down or whatever is getting pretty boring."

Goku smiled, his tone changing from threatening to light-hearted.  "Well, if You're bored, then why don't You let us all go?"

The Voice laughed and shook his head slightly, bemused.  "I'm not keeping you two around.  I'm just keeping my toys over there.  Truth to tell, it's boring down here all the time.  This is the most excitement I've had since I pushed Jita to Super Saiyan.  Such a rage in her heart.  All the while thinking – obsessing – on revenge."

Goku cocked his head, feeling the slight stirrings in ki as Vegeta manipulated his own around the barrier.  Goku almost panicked, but Vegeta quickly masked the ki before Goku could even send a warning.  _That was close._

_Keep him talking, Kakarrot!_

"Wait," Goku said, pretending that he was just going with the flow of conversation, hoping to no end that the Voice was preoccupied enough.  "How did You know what Jita was thinking?  You said You weren't a telepath."

The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell shifted on his feet, crossing his arms.  "Well, I have to share a mind-link with My slaves, obviously.  But My power goes a bit deeper than that."

"So what is it?"  Goku was actually genuinely interested in the answer to this question.  This enemy was just cocky enough to give away all the secrets to His abilities.

The Voice gave almost a modest look.  "I read souls.  That matters far more than simple surface thoughts and shallow passing emotions.  Every word – every deed – every feeling – all imprinted forever on a soul.  That's why I only take souls as payment.  Knowing a soul is knowing that person.  Having their soul is… well… you get the idea.  All that matters is the soul."

Goku was paying attention to the Voice's monologue, as well as trying to keep track of Vegeta's progress against the ki barrier.  When he got it down, they would only have the margin of a few seconds to get those two and get out.  _Come on, Vegeta_, he encouraged silently.

_Almost there, Kakarrot…_

"AAUUUUGGGHHHH!!!"

Pain – indescribable pain – slammed through Vegeta's mind and body as soon as the barrier flickered.  He'd finally directly pushed it with his ki, and the contact had him on the floor, writhing and screaming.  Then, just as suddenly, when he couldn't extend his ki anymore, the pain stopped, leaving him gulping lungfuls of air and shaking from the remembered agony.

"Ah, ah, ah," the Voice scolded with a whimsical air.  "No touching the displays."

Vegeta spat out some alien curses that, Goku thought, would probably be illegal in some cities if they were translated.  This only made the Voice grin wider.

The Voice sighed.  "Ah, Vegeta.  It might have worked, too, if you could touch the barrier.  Why, even I can't touch that.  I can bring it down, and I could put it back up, but I can't touch it."

"… Why… not…?" Vegeta said between gasps.

"It's ingenious, really."  The Voice did nothing to mask His pride in His technique.  "It requires a miniscule amount of energy to create and maintain it, but only the purest of souls can touch it – those souls who are completely pure of deed and intent.  Pretty much rules everyone out."

As Vegeta expected, at these words a smile came to Goku's lips.  Vegeta shook his head slightly.  Of all qualifiers, it had to be that one.  While it exasperated Vegeta to no end, it really did make things a lot easier.  After all, wasn't purity of soul Goku's defining characteristic?

Goku moved deliberately to the barrier surrounding the platform and the two tortured Saiyans, his part-happy, part-triumphant, and altogether innocent smile still making his face reflect his pure soul.  The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell did nothing to stop him, much to Vegeta's shock… and uneasiness.  _Is He going to drag Kakarrot in there or something?  Was He bluffing about the purity of soul just to get Kakarrot to touch the barrier?  Why is He just standing there?_

Goku's hand reached out, his eyes still on the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell, as he finally came in contact with the barrier.  The air was still for a minute, and then…

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!  AAAUUUGGGHHH!!  A—"

Goku's screams broke off in a whimper as the strongest being in the universe curled instinctively into a fetal position.  The blood had drained from his face from pain and shock.  Vegeta stared down at his comrade, trying to process what he was seeing.  What was going on here?

"There is none righteous.  No, not one."  The Voice cut through the silence left in the wake of Goku's screams, shaking His head slightly.

Goku regained himself slightly and slowly pushed himself to his feet.  "But… but…"  His breath was coming in shallow gasps.  "… but I can ride Nimbus…" he said weakly.

The Voice laughed.  "Yes, I'm sure you can.  I know this substance… Nimbus, you call it?  Yellowish semi-sentient cloud, if I'm not mistaken.  Yes, I know all of the soul-readers, and I imagine that it probably WOULD accept you."

"What do you mean?" Goku asked in a low voice.  He felt the strange unknown feeling of his world being turned askew by this Demon.

The Voice chuckled in his throat.  He slowly walked toward the two Saiyans.  Vegeta backed away instinctively, but Goku seemed frozen under the Demon's intense mocking stare.  The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell circled the tall Saiyan, looking him over from head to toe, seeming to see straight into his soul.  Which Goku knew He was.  For the first time in his entire life, through all the times when people had weighed him by his soul's worth and purity… for the very first time, Goku felt uncomfortable.

"What do I mean, Goku?" the Demon's voice softened, though the menace never left.  "Well, my heroic, 'righteous' Saiyan… this Nimbus judges only intent.  I, on the other hand, judge both intent… and deed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Vegeta snapped.  "Kakarrot never kills or hurts anyone, even if they deserve it."

The Voice laughed.  "Oh, really.  Well, let's just find out."

The merest brush of the demon's perfect hand against Goku's face, and the Saiyan was lost in the visions of his own unrealized, unrepented crimes.

*

_The old man fled the house that was reduced to splintered remains the next second.  He knew this was just a momentary delay to his fate.  He couldn't outrun his foster grandson this time.  _Why didn't the boy just listen and obey me_? he thought despairingly._

_That was his last thought.  Goku zeroed in on him and followed his instinct.  Kill all life forms.  Before his grandfather could react, Goku, in the form of giant monkey, yet still Goku, crushed the old warrior's bones under his foot, his broad monkey face grinning ferally at the satisfying crunch.  Without another thought, Goku stomped off in search of more victims._

*

_The middle-aged farmer stood in his station at the armored compound.  Even after a month, the machine gun was still extremely unfamiliar and foreign in his grasp.  He knew, even if aliens came to invade, he would never pull the trigger.  And that would be the only choice he could make.  If he'd had any sort of choice, he wouldn't be wearing this hated uniform, standing guard in a place that he'd love for anyone to bring down and completely obliterate.  He'd be back at his farm, complaining about the rain shortage or the lack of competence in the hired hands._

_But, like so many others, he hadn't had a choice.  It was either serve in the Red Ribbon Army, or watch the deaths of your own children.  So, as long as he went through the motions of serving, his wife and children were safe._

_Suddenly the farmer was roused from his reverie by a commotion in the corridor.  A group of soldiers rushed by, some running in fear and some – the ones he recognized – shouting with joy.  Confused, he grabbed the arm of another "draftee" that he knew._

_"What's going on, Seamus?"_

_His fellow farmer grabbed him by the shoulders in excitement.  "We're free, Tom!"_

_"What?!"___

_His friend's eyes shone in bliss.  "The Red Ribbon Army's being taken down by, get this… a little kid!  I never would have guessed it, but… we're saved!  No one's bothering to keep us in line.  We can go home!"_

_Seamus ran down the corridor, practically turning cartwheels, as Tom processed this information.__  He knew Seamus wasn't one to lie, and there WERE rumors that various commanders and generals were having trouble from this one kid… It must be true!_

_The sound of a child yelling echoed down the long corridor.  Tom laughed to see the people who'd been in charge of him running away like cowards only to be struck down.  Tom turned, feeling the overwhelming urge to greet and thank his unexpected child savior._

_Goku, seeing the soldier barring his way, gave a quick kick to the face, intentionally or unintentionally snapping his neck._

*

Over and over the images flooded Goku's head – images of every single innocent person he had killed, some from the accidental transformations into Oozaru as a child, and others as he plowed through the Red Ribbon Army, not telling the difference between the true criminals and the victims.  At the time, all he'd seen were people who continually harassed him and others for dragonballs.  But now, the Voice showed him every face, told him every name.  He saw himself through their eyes, a child of destruction, his face angry, his eyes almost bloodthirsty from pursuit…

"But there's other ways than death to cause suffering," the Voice chanted mockingly to him, too close to his ear.

*

_Chichi sat on the bed, her choking sobs fading to silent tears as Goku tried to explain why he'd stayed in space for more than a year after defeating Frieza._

_"So, you stayed to… learn a new technique?" Chichi asked quietly, meekly._

_Goku nodded, suddenly guilt-ridden under the hollow eyes of his wife.  "It was… important… Chichi."_

_Chichi nodded, her breath catching in her throat as a sob tried to form.  She swallowed it back.  "I… understand.  I just… I didn't know if you were alive… or dead… or…"_

_"I'm… sorry."_

_Chichi tried to form a small smile.  "It's all right.  You're here now.  Just… Piccolo is waiting for you.  You need to go train."_

_Goku nodded and slowly left the room._

_"Goku?"___

_The warrior turned back to his wife._

_"Just… please don't let anything happen to Gohan.  He's almost died… twice.  I couldn't bear it if it happened again."_

*

_Gohan screamed out his agony in the monster's vise-like grip.  The monster who was trying to goad him into anger-driven hidden power of the demi-Saiyan._

_The android that Goku had told his son to fight.___

_The android that Goku himself had given a senzu bean to._

_The android that was forcing scream after tortured scream from his only son…_

_"Enough of this game, Goku.__  You're wrong about your son.  Gohan may have that power, but it doesn't matter.  He doesn't thirst for battle and mayhem.  He's not a fighter like you.  Do you want to know what he's thinking?!  He's not thinking about strength, or about competition!  He's wondering why his father is standing there, letting him die!  And so your son may be the most powerful person in the world, but he's also a scared eleven-year-old boy."_

_Piccolo's words echoed in his skull, but it was too late…_

*

_Goku approached his son, laying a hand on his shoulder.  "Goten, why didn't…"_

_"NO!"  Goten jerked away.  "Don't talk to me like that!  Don't talk to me like you care, because I know you don't!"_

_"Goten, I've tried to reach out to you in every way I know how.  You block me every time.  You can't blame me there.  The problem isn't college, or me.  What is it?"_

_"You know, every time you've reached out to me, or talked to me, I can only think of all those years that I couldn't imagine why you would choose the afterlife over being with your family.  Did you even know I was born?  No, you were happily skipping along __Snake Way__.  I can only think about the pain Mom and Gohan went through, especially when I looked exactly like you, and how they tried to hide it from me."  Goten fought back the tears burning in his eyes as he poured out the years of resentment from his soul.  "I can only think of when I was told that my brother was dead, and my best friend was told that his father was dead, and when we had the audacity to feel a little grief, all you could do was yell at us to shut up, and then ask what was wrong when we were angry.  And then leave.  All I can think about is all those years you were alive, but spent your time away from home, training, months—YEARS—on end.  The whole father-son bonding thing, it was too little too late.  Well, you won't have to make up for lost time, or inconvenience yourself in any way on my account.  I may not be off to college, but I'm leaving anyway.  Just don't follow me, and we'll get along fine."_

*

"Stop it!  Let him go, you psycho!"

The Voice shook His head bemusedly at the prince.  "Actually, I stopped a long time ago.  He's allowing the images to replay in his mind.  All those he's killed… all those he's hurt…  Hmph.  Pure soul my foot.  For a hero, he's left a lot of pain in his wake."

Vegeta growled at the Demon and then grabbed Goku's shoulders, shaking him roughly.  "Kakarrot, snap out of it!  Get a handle on yourself!"

It didn't help.  Goku couldn't pull himself out of the trap so carefully constructed by the smirking, gloating Voice.  Although, Vegeta couldn't find himself begrudging the smug attitude of the Demon.  He had just reduced the savior of the universe to a quaking trembling heap of guilt-ridden anguish.

"How about I give you a taste of that, Vegeta?"  The Voice drew up to him, His arm extended.

Vegeta didn't flinch.  He merely crossed his arms, daring the Creature to come closer.  "What, show me what a bad boy I've been?  Familiarize me with the face of every person I've killed?"  His eyes closed as he shook his head.  "Don't You think I already go through that?  You may have Kakarrot helpless, but You're dealing with an old pro at guilt-ridden flashbacks.  You'll be doing nothing new."

The Voice drew back and laughed slightly.  "Must run in the family.  Guilt and defiance and pride, and wrapped up in one neat package."

Vegeta just glared and began to shake Goku harder.  "Kakarrot!!  Stop acting like the third-class disgrace that you are!!"  When Goku didn't respond, Vegeta gave up on reasoning with him and punched him hard in the mouth.  Goku fell over to his side without a sound.

The Voice snorted in laughter.  "I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies."

Vegeta flashed Him a look, mouth hinting at his customary evil smirk.  "You really would."

In the meantime, Vegeta's "ministrations" seemed to have done the trick.  Goku was pulling himself unsteadily to his feet, groaning.  He opened his eyes, but didn't meet anyone's gaze.

"Kakarrot?" Vegeta said hesitantly.

"I-I'm alright, Vegeta," Goku said in a shaky voice.

The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell laughed.  "Adding 'lying' to your lengthy list of sins, Goku?"

Goku glared, but didn't raise his head.  He looked strangely… defeated.

*****

_What is going on?_

Jita blinked away the visions lingering in her eyes, huddling against the warm weight that did very little to ward off the penetrating cold.__

_A single-finger shot slit the air, cutting short the laughs of the suffering Saiyan Prince…_

_no__ no no NO NO NO!!  She shook her head violently.  She wouldn't think of that.  She wouldn't allow…  She still had some fight…. She still had to fight……___

_The little spiky haired boy laid on the ground – unconscious – as Buu's energy ripped through the planet… left by his father…_

Jita clawed at her eyes, the physical pain bringing her out of the hellhole of the visions.  Some level of Jita's mind knew she could break the mental hold.  She had not yet accepted.  She couldn't.  Even as the vision of her son being held aloft by the abomination that had killed her overtook her, she pushed away the sight and focused on holding the boy in her arms.  It wasn't difficult.  She had done it so many times.  She could practically feel the boy's warm weight in her arms…  And her husband beside her, grinning like an idiot…__

"Jita?"__

The faint voice brought her fully back to reality.  She remembered now where she was.  It was the Lower Realms of Hell.  She was on the platform surrounded by the Voice's special shield.  And… someone was with her.__

"Goten?" she ventured.__

Warm arms encircled her from the ground.  She felt the wetness of bleeding wounds against her arms, but she didn't pull away.  She fell into the embrace.__

"Why are you here?" Jita asked softly, though it came out harsher than she meant.  _On that note, why am I here?_  The thought came unbidden from her ever-analyzing brain.__

"I—"  Goten gagged a bit.  Jita quickly pulled his head up to a more upright position and allowed him to cough up the blood that was sure to choke him.  Goten's gi was now more red than orange.__

"I couldn't leave you, Jita," Goten croaked out weakly.  "I always told you I wouldn't let this happen.  I couldn't."__

_And you've caused more harm than good_, Jita thought grimly.  But she didn't voice such feelings.  No real point in that.  _In fact, I did the most harm by coming here in the first place.  He takes power from souls…_

"But…" Goten continued.  "… I almost lost you here.  I-I almost stopped… caring…  Oh, Kami!  I almost stopped caring!"__

"Shhh," Jita soothed her husband, holding his head to her chest as if he were a child.  She suddenly felt the years that separated them – the wisdom that Hell had taught her versus the innocence of Goten's own past and heritage.  She felt… old.  Ancient.  __

"Goten, I'm going to get you out of here," Jita promised, smoothing his hair down.__

Goten lifted his eyes to look into hers and smiled – that painfully innocent and trusting smile that just made Jita feel older.  She flinched, knowing he had misunderstood what she'd said.  Better to not tell him now.__

Slowly Jita raised her head to assess the situation outside of her tiny prison and find her tormenter.  Needless to say, she wasn't expecting the sight that greeted her.__

"What the hell?"__

Three sets of eyes turned to her at her exclamation.  They had been unaware of her regaining of consciousness and her exchange with her husband.  She had expected the One.  Even though He had taken many different forms in their acquaintance, and had never taken this effeminate form with her, she could recognize those eyes and that power anywhere.  But the other two…  Her temper flared.__

"Vegeta!  What do you think you're doing here?!"  Jita struggled to her feet and propped her husband's back up with her leg.  "You too, Kakarrot!  What possessed you to interfere?!"__

"Why, Jita," the Voice mockingly chastised her, "you're being so rude to our guests.  I thought I taught you better."__

Jita glared at her Master.  "You have no right – no power – to keep them here.  You have me… why do You need them?!"__

_But He doesn't have me_, her logical mind cut through her anger.  _Not really.  Or else I wouldn't be speaking to Him like this.  But… I know He could break me if He truly wanted to.  I know He could.  But why doesn't He?_

_He orchestrated all of this._

Suddenly, the absurdity of the role He'd forced her into struck her.  She knew quite a lot about the nature of the Lower Realms, and the seal of His imprisonment.  She'd never had any doubts about her place here before, because it had all been self-centered.  All she'd worried about was revenge.  And it had been her choice.  Yet, even through that, there had always been one nagging doubt – the one question.  _Why does He need my loyalty?  Is it for entertainment, or…_

It wasn't for entertainment.  She knew that.  The Voice was too smart – too ambitious – for that.  She was here… to break the seal.  And the seal couldn't be broken by her loyalty.  Oh no.__

_It can only be broken by rebellion.  I want to leave here so bad – He's made me want to leave here so bad – that I would endanger all of reality by… by leaving, and thereby breaking the seal._

Vegeta cut into her thoughts.  "We came here to save your worthless hide, idiot sister, and that of your idiot mate.  Do you have a problem with that?!"__

"Don't you idiots realize what you've done?!"  _He was going to use them for His own power supply.  Them and Goten.  They're the most powerful in the universe.  None could stand against Him if He had all that power.  He's going to try to… use… them…  In a fit of anger, Jita let her power erupt.___

As soon as she did, she realized the repercussions of doing just that.  One, her husband's body had been flung forward, fortunately caught by Goku.__

Two, there was no longer a barrier to prevent her husband being flung forward, or anyone leaving the platform.__

Three, she was actually able to use her power.  It wasn't being held by the Voice.__

Looking over, she saw her Master with an expression on His face – any of his faces – that she had rarely seen.  Was it… fear?  Maybe shock, or even horror.  She couldn't tell.  It was too much of a rush to cause such feelings in the being that had held all of her feelings in His hands for so long.__

Slowly she stalked forward to her family, all looking at her with expressions of shock.  She realized that she must look a sight.  Her clothing was hanging in rags, the bones in her leg were only being held together with ki, blood covering her entire body…  _I must look like one of those soulless zombies in slasher flicks, she thought wryly.___

Vegeta was the first to recover.  "Well," he smirked in approval, folding his arms.  "It seems you have shown your 'Master' who is the most powerful."__

Jita blinked, and then laughed.  "Yes.  It seems that way, doesn't it."__

The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell seemed to crackle with rage.  **_YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE ME SO EASILY, JITA.___**

Jita's mind and power at once grappled with the will of the Voice.  Jita felt the horrible pulling at her bound soul, which physically manifested itself in the urge to kneel.  She called forth every ounce of willpower in her small frame, sweating and straining under the pressure.  And… it was working.  Yet, amid the instinctive sense of triumph, Jita knew what was really happening.  Somehow, she felt she had always known what it would come down to.__

"Here, Jita."__

Jita turned to accept the… peach?... from Goku's hand.  "What?..."__

"It's like senzu," Goku said quietly.  Jita turned to Goten, who was now fully restored to health, besides the fact that he was still dead.  Jita shrugged and quickly ate the peach.  Immediately she felt the results.  Good.  She'd need the power.__

Now able to use his arms, Goten quickly scooped Jita into his arms for an embrace.  Like so many times, Jita felt herself melting into his arms, drawing all the comfort and reassurance that she could.   She found herself not wanting to let go, and not even being ashamed in front of her brother.__

"How touching," the Voice tried to say in a mocking tone, but His voice was too ragged.  He was starting to sound more like the demon that He actually was.__

Goten rolled his eyes.  "Isn't it time we left?  I've had just about enough of Him."__

Goku folded his arms, his eyes shadowed.  "I agree."__

Jita pulled away from Goten and smiled into his eyes.  It was so good to have him.  But…__

Keeping one hand on Goten's arm, Jita put her other on Vegeta's arm, seeming to draw reassurance from both.  With a look that eerily resembled an apology, she jolted her energy through both of them, rendering them unconscious.__

Goku stepped back a bit, stammering, "B-but… what?  What are you doing?"__

Jita smiled at him, one of the few times she'd actually smiled at him.  "Kakarrot, I cannot leave here."__

In the confusion, Goku momentarily forgot his own mental dilemma.  He scratched the back of his head.  "The Lord of the Lower Realms isn't stopping you.  From what I've seen, you're beyond His power."__

Jita shook her head.  "It sure seems that way, doesn't it.  I don't blame you for not seeing it, Kakarrot.  After so many years, I've just now understood.  He's… manipulating me.  I'm doing exactly what He wants.  Otherwise, I wouldn't even be coherent at the moment."__

Goku's gaze hardened.  "Jita, why do you need to stay?"

Jita glanced hatefully over at her Master.  "Because if I set one foot beyond that seal, well, pardon the triteness of the expression, but all Hell will break loose.  That seal is the only thing that's keeping the Voice at bay.  If I cross it now, a second time…  He wants to be free.  He's using me."  She lowered her head.  "He's been using me all along."__

Goku was speechless.  Jita looked up at him and smiled again.  "I… I did that to them because I didn't want them to see what I have to do next.  I-I can't let them see me.  They won't understand.  But you…"  Jita nodded to him.  "You'll understand.  The hero always understands fool self-sacrifice."__

Goku ignored her comment.  "You're going to stabilize the seal.  You're – going to surrender yourself."__

Jita nodded.  "Don't make a big deal out of it.  It's just something that has to be done.  Just – get them out of here.  And don't tell anyone.  Make up anything.  Just nothing too heroic."  Jita smirked.  "Want to make it believable.  It's just – I – don't want anyone to know."__

Goku didn't want to believe her.  But he couldn't ignore her eyes.  For the first time, she actually looked… beautiful.  A beauty that only martyrs can attain.  In that moment… he had to let her go.

Jita turned her back to Goku and walked slowly up to the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell.  He sneered and backed away slightly, still playing like He was displeased with her actions and scared of her power.  He'd always been too theatrical.  Jita ignored it.  She kept walking until she was four feet away from the Demon and…  

_All those times I've sworn to never bow before another.  All those times I've clung to my freedom and independence, even when it would have been better to just give up and give in, or even the semblance of giving in…  It's fitting that it should come to this._

Her legs seemed to give out on her.  She hit the floor hard, her neck bent and her eyes averted.  She raised her hand submissively – palm-up.  All her concentrated power flowed from her hand to the shocked master before her.  After she had fully surrendered her ki, she tore down her mental barriers.  Finally, she found her voice.

"I pledge my will and loyalty to You, my lord."

Goku was frozen in place at the sight of the proud princess kneeling before a shocked Demon.  The air lost its bitter chill, slowly warming, then heating, then almost to burning.  The soft glowing light turned to the color of blood.  The Lower Realms of Hell was finally living up to its name, reflecting the hellish fury of its lord.

Yes, He was angry.  This had NOT gone how He had planned at all.  The Voice fairly shook with rage as He stared down at the servant – the slave – that He didn't even want.  By giving her power to Him, she'd stolen all the power He had.  He couldn't even gain the presence of mind to strike the kneeling form down.  All the carefully niched chinks in the seal that had slowly been eroding away from Jita's very presence…  All of them filled up.  Gone.  He'd just… lost… everything.  

And beyond Jita were the three Saiyans – the strongest in the universe – that He'd nearly hand-picked to serve him with energy – and they were useless.

When He finally found his voice, it was shrill with rage.

**_GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!!_**

Startled by the voice that seemed to come from everywhere, Goku quickly pulled Goten over one shoulder and Vegeta over the other.  He hesitated when energy crackled around Jita, the power she had give the Voice, promising her an eternity of pain.  He momentarily forgot his promise.  _I can't just leave her here, no matter what she says._

"Get out, Kakarrot!!" Jita yelled.  A note of panicking despair tinged her voice, and Goku had no choice but to follow her command.  He turned… and ran.  Out of the fire-ringed door that he'd smashed in.  Once out of the red heat and in the dark stairwell, he turned to look out of the door one more time.

The door was gone.

*****

"Where are they!!?  They should have been here long ago!"

Enma had long since stopped trying to pacify the blue kai.  He was technically much lower in rank – not even having jurisdiction over King Kai's dead soul.  However, this was his office, and the god was setting everyone at the edge of their nerves.  Not a good thing in a place mostly composed of newly dead souls.

"Kaio-sama, you know time works differently in that place," Enma tried to make his booming voice a little more soothing.  "What can seem like hours here is only minutes there.  It was made like that so the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell would have less time to gain power."

"Are you lecturing me on the nature of the Afterlife!!?" King Kai turned on the red judge of the dead.

Enma raised his hands in defense.  "No, Kaio-sama.  I'm merely trying to reassure you."

King Kai's sunglasses glinted dangerously.  "Well, stop trying."

Whatever tirade King Kai was going to start was cut short by the sudden appearance of the three said Saiyans.

"Goku!  You did it!"  Suddenly cheerful, King Kai mentally gauged the integrity of the nature of Hell.  "Yes, the seal on the Lower Realms is strengthened to its original state," he said, satisfied.  Then he noticed the two unconscious Saiyans.  "Hey, what happened to them?"

The shadow had not left Goku's face, and even had become darker after Goku had teleported away.  He'd sacrificed someone.  Again.  "It… was tough fighting," he lied.

King Kai regarded Goku suspiciously, but was prevented from inquiring further when both Goten and Vegeta started to regain consciousness at the same time.

"W-what happened?" Goten said groggily.  As he noticed the temperance of the air, and the brightness of the atmosphere, the young man jumped up, looking wildly about him.  He instantly recognized King Enma's pagoda.  "Where's Jita?" he asked breathlessly.

Vegeta pulled himself up wordlessly.  His last memories, the lack of Jita's ki, and the expression on Goku's face all combined to speak volumes.  "She's still down there, isn't she?" Vegeta said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.

Goku nodded miserably.  "The seal is restored."

"What?!!"  Goten almost went to his knees in horror, but fury kept him on his feet.  "What did you say?!"

"Son," Goku said uneasily, "there was nothing I could do."

Goten glared disbelievingly at his father.  "Well, then, what happened?" he challenged.

Goku looked away, remembering his promise, no matter what it did to him.  "I can't tell you that."

Goten gave a high sharp laugh.  "Of course you can't!  'Cause then you'd be admitting that you failed – you failed to save Jita.  Now she's going to be down there… forever…"

This time Goten did sink to his knees, the enormity of reality finally crashing down on him.  "I'll… never… see her again."

Goku slowly advanced on his shocked, grieving son.  "Goten…" he put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Goten wrenched away from his father's touch.  "No!  It's your fault!!  You should have saved her.  You're the hero!  You should have saved her!"

"Goten, that's enough!"

Goten calmed a bit at Vegeta's sharp words.  He looked down at the ground, sullen.

"If you've forgotten," Vegeta continued, "you still have a son to rescue."

Goten looked up in surprise.  "Jiten?" he asked worriedly.  "Where is he?"

Vegeta folded his arms solemnly.  "He's been taken as an acolyte by the thing that killed you.  It's called a Leech.  He's unreachable right now, but he'll be back in a year, probably to try to kill us all.  And…" Vegeta took a breath, knowing that this would kill Goten, "… he's probably going to win Jiten's loyalty."

"If all this is true," King Kai added thoughtfully, "you'll need to train on the Grand Kai's planet.  There are people there who can help you prepare."

Goten nodded, collecting himself.  He suddenly couldn't stand to be there any longer.  He looked over at Vegeta.  "So… I guess wish me back in a year."  He turned to leave, following King Kai.

"Goten…" Goku started, not willing to have them part like this.

Goten glared over his shoulder at Goku.  "You… just stay away from me," he spat out bitterly.

As Goten and King Kai exited the pagoda, Goku and Vegeta stood in silence, both grieving in their own ways.

"Kakarrot…" Vegeta began.

Goku looked at his rival hopefully, wanting – needing – just a word of encouragement.

"Just… take us home."

Goku looked down in disappointment, not even acknowledging Enma or anyone else, and put a hand on Vegeta's shoulder.

*****

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Silver Warrior (Would the perfect Saiyan hell be going without food, or complete weakness without the ability to get stronger?  Hmmm… The eternal question.), Tonifranz (I'm glad I'm able to wring a review out of you every chapter.  I wonder if this chapter will deserve another review, or if you'll try to wait a few more.  Now to the review.  Most of my stuff came from doing a simple internet search for underworld mythology, I'm ashamed to admit.  However, I did have a devil (he-he, PUN) of a time weeding out what I didn't need.  Oh, and Satan was in Satan City as always, taking credit for saving the world.  Ha-ha.  I mean, he was chomping on the heads of Brutus, Cassius, and Judas in the Ninth Circle of Hell.  Since the Christian Hell is the most known and popular, I decided to just make it Dante's Inferno.  Close enough.  I'm glad my format didn't truly disappoint.  I'm still not truly comfortable with writing action, and I wasn't sure if anyone in Hell could truly stand up to Goku and Vegeta without it just being pathetic.  Don't worry, I'll eventually have some action, what with the Leech coming and all.  I will go into the explanation of the purpose of an acolyte next chapter.  Mostly, it'll be a devoted follower, but there will always be a mental and ki bond going on.  It's a bit complicated, and will come out in later chapters.  But don't be shy about asking for explanations.  Sometime I mean to put something in, and I just forget.  Didn't bring senzu because… I don't know… there wasn't any around?  And I had a reason for eating the peaches at that point that I meant to explain and didn't.  The way I envision Hell, mostly from seeing Frieza and Cell being taken down by Pikkon so easily, I have a theory that Hell screws with your ki a lot.  Maybe it has a draining effect.  Anyway, I was going to explain about the draining effect, and that it was starting to effect Goku and Vegeta, and I just didn't get around to it.  Maybe later, or when I do the rewrite.  Anyway.  I was particularly happy with my portrayal of King Vegeta.  Now, there's a character that certainly hasn't been fully explored.  Either he's been abusive or at least strict father.  That's something to think about…  Oh!  Anyway, hope to hear from you soon.), Howler Wolfe (My wonderful, supportive, loving boyfriend getting review 100.  I love you!  Oh, and if you meet a mythology professor who happened to be a DBZ fan, send him/her my way.  Ha.  As if that'd ever happen.), jason, Lil Shady (Not even sure if you're up to this chapter yet.  When you get here… Thanks!), Omega (Thanks for the happy anniversary, and for the profuse praise of last chapter.), and tim333 (And now comes my critic.  I will admit that I didn't this chapter mostly as comic relief.  Reading back, I'm not as pleased with the first two levels.  I had to force myself to write those, and a lot of times forced writing isn't as good.  Same thing with Dante's Inferno.  I almost copped out with this one by letting Goku and Vegeta walk in, and then break to when they're walking out and have one of them say "That… was disturbing."  However, I thought that people would think me lazy with my research, so I decided to do a quick run-through.  Seems that it wasn't as successful as I'd hoped.  And you know me about angst and torture.  That's my forte.)

And where is Dark Wolf?  He'd better review this chapter, or I'll… do nothing, actually.  Except for poke my bottom lip out.  I MISS YOU, DW!!  WHERE ARE YOU?!

Anyway.  I have no idea when the next chapter will be out.  I'll try to work on it whenever I can.

Until next time.


	39. Another Year

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes:  I'm back.  It's 2 in the morning and I'm back.  Man, am I not smart.  Anyway, this is a new, though slightly short, chapter of "The Soul."  I can't even think of a title right now.  I'll think of something.  Maybe I'll wait until tomorrow to post this.  That would probably be a good idea.  And maybe proofread what I've written to see if Goten isn't training with rabid squirrels or something.  He-he.

Well, I did wait for the next day.  This chapter seems shorter than I meant it to, but I didn't want to take up any span of time yet.  I'll work on the next chapter when I can.  I really really want to finish this story before Christmas.  I've been working on this story for SO long, and I have other plans.  Anyway, on with the show.

Chapter 38: Another Year

The group at Kami's Lookout had long since lapsed into silence.  It had been hours since Goku and Vegeta had left for the rescue mission, and it was now night on the Lookout.  Of course, on the ground below, it was just barely dusk.

Since Mr. Popo had been so busy with the research on the Leech's knife, Chichi had volunteered to cook for the group.  At first she was met with resistance from people considering her feelings, but she'd quickly pointed out that keeping busy would make her worry less.  No one had the heart to deny her after that.

Gohan sat at the edge of the Lookout, his feet dangling from the side, and watched the final visible glimmers of a sunset below.  He drummed his fingers on the cold white tile, the knot in his stomach growing tighter.  _Is this what humans feel when they have digestive problems? _ As a demi-Saiyan, Gohan took on the Saiyan trait of metabolizing his food as soon as he ate it.  _Probably not_, he mused.  _They wouldn't feel this nervous.  This is just nerves._

Chichi had fixed her usual superb fare, and Gohan had eaten plenty, but the food now made him over-energetic and antsy.  But there was nothing to do.  He'd tried to help Mr. Popo with his research, but each book had been written in an ancient and/or alien language.  Piccolo didn't seem inclined to talk, Trunks had been preoccupied ever since the incident with the knife, and he knew that if he approached Bulma, she'd just worry him to death.  Bulma was not exactly comforting.  He'd even tried to help his mother with the cooking, or the dishes, but she was in manic housework mode without a house.  That was a deadly combination.  He decided to leave her be.

_And I don't want to go home.  Not until Dad and Vegeta get back._

Gohan tensed as he felt a presence beside him, but then relaxed.  It was only Trunks.  Gohan turned to acknowledge Trunks, who plopped tiredly beside him.  Gohan realized how much harder this was on Trunks.  He wasn't as used to the dragonballs as Gohan was.  The dragonballs and death had ruled Gohan's early life – the majority of his life.  Trunks had rarely even seen one, and had seen Shenlong only once.  

"How're ya holding up?" Gohan asked nonchalantly.

Trunks gave a sarcastic laugh.  "Wonderful.  Best day of my life.  Right on up there with Buu."

Gohan chuckled slightly.  "Don't worry.  Our dads'll fix it.  Always do."  Gohan held back the comment that actually Trunks' dad usually screws everything up, and his own dad was usually there to make everything right.  He thought it best not to dwell on the past.  Besides, Vegeta had changed.  _Now he just screws things up unintentionally._

Trunks stared at the growing dark.  "Yeah, I know.  It's just…"  Trunks's voice lowered.  "It happened so fast."

Gohan sighed and nodded.  "Yeah.  For both of them."  Gohan looked over warily at Trunks.  "What did you see when that knife hypnotized you?"

Trunks's brow furrowed.  "I… it was… that first day with Buu, when Dad was fighting fat Buu.  Hah.  I remember – you weren't there.  It was the first time that Dad hugged me… but then he knocked me out."  Trunks shook his head.  "They told me later on that Dad was just trying to get me off the battlefield, but it hurt at the time."

Gohan nodded.  "Yeah.  Those times will stay with you.  I remember…"  He paused, frowning at the recollection.  Something about waiting at Kami's Lookout, helpless, again, had dredged this memory up.  "…it was when you were just a baby – my dad had to hit me to keep me from trying to go fight Cell after I thought he killed Piccolo.  I completely understand it now, and even understood it a little then, but it… hurt.  It always hurts."

Trunks eyed Gohan.  "You aren't going to go all Goten now, are you?"

Gohan shot him a glance.  "I won't if you won't."

Even though that statement was rather loaded with touchy subjects, it actually cheered the two demi-Saiyans up.  They looked at each other and laughed.

"Look at us," Trunks chuckled.  "You the professor, me the big CEO – all grown up, and still counting on Daddy to save the day."

Gohan sobered slightly.  "You regret?  I mean, not training as hard?"

Trunks stopped, considering.  "I…  Sometimes.  When I try to spar with Goten, and I can't even keep up with him.  We used to match in power.  Well, actually, I used to be more powerful.  But not now…  And then Dad will make comments – something along the lines of me starting to fit in with the usual stereotypes of my "kind."  Of course, then I pointed out there's another stereotype I'd be fulfilling if I trained all the time."  Trunks laughed softly.  "That usually shuts him up."

Gohan allowed Trunks to ramble on.  Funny how they could talk comfortably about various sensitive subjects that would usually have everyone at each others throats.  It didn't seem to matter much at the moment.

Gohan's nerves grated at the sudden intrusion of the loud polytonic tune ringing from Trunks's pocket.  Like most professors, he'd heard that little ditty interrupt many a class.  Gohan covered his annoyance quickly.  It wasn't like he could throw Trunks out of class.  "You get coverage all the way up here?"

Trunks smiled sheepishly.  "Yeah… I probably need to take this."  With that he pulled himself up and walked along the edge of the Lookout away from Gohan, speaking in what Gohan quickly realized to be French.

"Humans and their contraptions," a deep voice came from behind Gohan.

Gohan turned his head around to smile at his old mentor.  "Just because you've spent your life out in the woods doesn't mean everyone should."

Piccolo lifted an eyeridge.  "Who's spent his life out in the woods?"

Gohan laughed at this, conceding the argument.  "How long's it been?"

Piccolo stared at the sun.  "Seven hours…"

Gohan sighed and rubbed his eyes.  "Not sure how much more of this I can take."

Piccolo eyed him.  "Take it easy, kid."

Gohan smirked.  "Easy for you so say.  You realize this is yet another year of training to face yet another unstoppable evil opponent."

Piccolo closed his eyes.  "Yeah, I realized that, kid.  Are you up to it?"

"Are you kidding me?  I'm not going to be the one who kills the Leech."  Gohan stared off into the darkness of the day, interrupted far below by the tiny fires of the Indian village.  "I've slacked off so much I'm not even sure I can use the Mystic powers anymore.  I've probably lost them after all this time.  Besides… you know I'm not a fighter."

"This from the boy who killed Cell."

Gohan looked up at Piccolo.  "This from the man who got absorbed and killed by Buu."  Gohan smiled reassuringly at Piccolo's worried look.  "Don't worry about it.  I'll train, and I'll be there if or when I'm needed, but it looks like it's going to come down to Dad, Vegeta, Goten, or Jita.  They're the real fighters."

"So you think they'll succeed.  Getting Goten and Jita out of Hell, I mean," Piccolo amended at Gohan's confused look.

Gohan smiled.  "Of course.  Dad can make just about anything happen, and Vegeta's just too stubborn to quit and leave them.  And then Goten and Jita will get training in the Afterlife, which I hear is superb, but if they don't beat the Leech, Dad and Vegeta can always fuse and kill him.  I don't even know why people keep messing with us.  I mean, Earth has the strongest people in the universe.  We have nothing to worry about."  _And maybe if I keep believing that, I won't feel so uneasy.  _

Piccolo smirked at Gohan's version of the near future.  They both knew it was too optimistic to be believable, but it had happen so often, it almost seemed run of the mill.

"Dad?"

Gohan sensed the power of the two Saiyans before he heard Trunks's exclamation.  He turned to cheerfully greet the returning victors, but his smile faltered.  Something… was wrong.

"I-is Goten…?" Gohan began.

"The boy's fine," Vegeta snapped, quickly moving away from Goku.

Chichi was already running out of the living quarters of the Lookout.  "My baby's alright?!  Oh, Goku!"  She flung herself against Goku, latching her arms around him.  Goku didn't make a move.

"And Jita?" Piccolo broke the awkwardly joyful moment.

Chichi pulled away from Goku to look at his face.  "Goku?" the loaded one-word question came out.

Goku didn't answer.

Bulma gave Goku a strange look, but was in too much suspense for his silence.  "Vegeta, what happened?"

Vegeta's back was turned to everyone.  "Ask Kakarrot," he said in an unexpectedly light voice.  "I was unconscious at the time."

The entire group turned to Goku, who was looking down, not meeting anyone's eyes.  Gohan was about to prompt him when Goku spoke up in a voice so different from his usual confident tenor.  "Jita's still down there.  We couldn't get her out."

"We?" Vegeta said, irony dripping from his voice.

Goku actually glared at the prince.  "I didn't see YOU helping much."

Vegeta's eyebrows raised at the challenge as everyone practically gasped at the unfamiliar and unfitting tone of bitterness in Goku's voice.

"Dad," Gohan started slowly, "what DID happen?  I know it sounded pretty impossible, what with King Kai being adamant against getting Jita out of there, but you seemed confident…"

"I couldn't save her, okay?" Goku snapped.  "And I'm sorry I can't tell you what happened," Goku added on a little softer.

When Goku lifted his head, the others were shocked to see such a look in the happy-go-lucky Saiyan's eyes.  It was a look that was truly, horrifically… lost.  Uncomfortable under the stares, Goku took off.

Chichi sighed painfully, used to his quick unpredictable departures.  Vegeta cursed under his breath.  The rest of the group was too shocked to register any reaction.

"What… just happened?" Trunks ventured.  "Dad?"

All eyes turned to Vegeta, the only one who seemed to be in the position to explain Goku's odd defeated behavior.

Vegeta's eyes flashed.  "How the hell should I know?" he said in a tight voice.  "I told you I was unconscious at the time.  All I know is that Goten is safe and Jita is gone forever.  There's no use dwelling on it.  Just get used to the idea that dead is dead this time."

The weight of the words sunk in slowly.  No one knew what to feel at the news about Jita.  What are you supposed to feel for a damned soul anyway?

"So… a year of training," Piccolo echoed Gohan's earlier words, breaking the uncomfortable mournful silence.  With the usual "fearless leader" now gone, Piccolo stepped into the leadership position.  "We'll wish Goten back not long before then, and train in the meantime.  If anyone wants to tell any of the others, you're welcome to.  They should at least be told."

"I'll take care of that," Gohan volunteered quietly.  Piccolo nodded to him.

"Gohan?"  Gohan turned to his mother, who looked tired enough to keel over.  "Take me home now.  I need to go home."

Gohan smiled wearily, feeling just as worn out.  "Sure Mom."  He looked over at the others.  "So… um… I guess I'll see you all around."  With that he took off, Chichi in his arms.

Watching Gohan disappear into the darkness, Trunks shifted his weight uncomfortably.  "Uh… I've got to go to the office.  Gotta arrange for some time off in the next year," he added as an afterthought, as if it wasn't really important.  "See you at home."

Bulma waved, and Vegeta merely nodded.  "Are you ready, Vegeta?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if trying to dispel a headache.  "I don't feel like flying right now, woman.  Don't I remember you having a plane?"

Bulma cocked her head at her husband's strange mood.  "Yes, I capsulized it.  It's…"  She felt around for her purse.  "It's in the Lookout.  I'll be back in a minute."

Vegeta crossed his arms and waited as Bulma left him and Piccolo alone.  He knew Piccolo wanted to know more about what happened, but he wasn't going to volunteer anything.  

True to expectation, Piccolo's low bass split the silence.  "So what did really happen?"

Vegeta didn't raise his head.  "I wasn't lying, Piccolo.  I don't really know what happened.  It looked like we were going to get out – all four of us – and then everything when dark.  I woke up in Yemma's office with an extreme headache, Jita gone forever, and Goten yelling at Kakarrot again.  Not to mention my nephew has been kidnapped, we have yet another unstoppable evil whatever to train for and fight, and no one really seems to care.  All topped off with Kakarrot having his first experience with self-doubt and coming face-to-face with his own failings."  Vegeta almost felt out of breath.  "So, how was your day, Namek?"

Piccolo didn't rise to the bait.  "Failings?"

Vegeta laughed slightly.  "The almighty Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell made him see all the people he's killed.  Made this whole spiel about purity of intent and purity of deed.  He finally proved what I've been trying to say for years – that Kakarrot is not the pure perfect hero everyone makes him out to be."

"Well I knew that," Piccolo said wryly.  "He killed my father, you know."

Vegeta's eyebrows raised.  "So why didn't you ever take revenge?"

"I did," Piccolo stated.  "I killed him and kidnapped his son.  That's about as far as you can go against Goku."

Vegeta nodded, but added, "The Voice went further."

"I found it, Vegeta!"

Bulma walked towards the two warriors with purse in tote.  "It was in the library the entire time."  She casually caused a minor explosion in decapsulizing the plane.  "Oh, Piccolo.  Dende asked me to tell you that he's gone to give Goten the Leech's knife.  Mr. Popo thinks that there are people in the Afterlife who can teach Goten who to fight with it."

Even as Bulma was talking, Vegeta was pulling her onto the plane.  The events of the day had drained him so much that all he wanted to do right now was shut his eyes and will it all away… at least until the morning.

Bulma, unperturbed, slid into the pilot's chair while Vegeta slumped into the copilot's position.  Vegeta never acted as copilot; he was merely in the passenger's side seat.  He stared out the side window as the plane rose and then descended slightly.

"I think we should drop by Jita and Gohan's house first," Bulma said quietly.

Vegeta grunted in response.  That was the last place he wanted to be.

"I just want to lock their house and dojo up for the next year, so Goten won't come back to life to face a huge electric bill," she continued lightly, trying to break the mood a little.

_Oh, the horror_, Vegeta thought.  "That couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Vegeta asked wearily.

Bulma shook her head.  "Their deaths were widely publicized, whether they were meant to or not.  The dojo of the Spider Masters would be fair game for any thieves or scavengers.  Most know that their dojo is equipped with some of the best of Capsule Corp technology.  Some nuts might just want souvenirs.  You might need to scare away a few humans."

Usually scaring people gave Vegeta a weird sort of satisfaction, but tonight he really didn't feel like dealing with the weakling scum of Earth.  "Tell me again why the Saiyans were so evil."

"Easy," Bulma said wryly.  "You killed people."

"We didn't do it for money, though."

"No… you did it for the kicks."

Vegeta chuckled.  "Can't argue with you there."

The previous unease faded away slightly as the two settled into their comfortable routine of verbal sparring.  At that moment both of them were longing for the familiar.  So they argued calmly, their voices never raising in volume, anger never flaring.  It wasn't the time.

*****

Vegeta sat in the copilots chair, watching as Bulma half-ran in the yellow glow of the plane's landing lights into the dark wooden house, seeming so out of place this close to the city.  Some lights came on, and Vegeta imagined Bulma assessing the messy house.  That house was always messy.  Jita just wasn't the housekeeping type.

Vegeta felt the dull pain of a headache intensify into a few sharp shards jabbing right behind his eyes.  This was the worst kind of headache, and, despite great fatigue, Vegeta knew he would probably not get to sleep for a LONG while.  With a muffled curse – a habit he'd actually been trying to break since the advent of fatherhood, and with no luck – he got up from his seat and made his way to the back of the plane.  There had to be some aspirin somewhere.

Not finding anything in the few small compartments on the sides of the plane… or in the glove compartment in front of him… or in Bulma's purse… Vegeta walked into the tiny restroom.  He blinked in pain as the harsh fluorescent light slammed into his senses, but found what he was looking for in the surprisingly well-stocked medicine cabinet.  From the looks of it, the plane was probably kept for business trips – for both Trunks and Bulma, and possibly Dr. Briefs before them.  Vegeta knew that Trunks didn't use any cologne.  And he knew Bulma used it…  

He quickly put back the tiny pink bottle of Pamprin and grabbed the Advil instead.  In relief, he took the pills and washed them down with lukewarm water in a tiny paper cup.  He waited expectantly, stupidly.  Of course it wouldn't work so quickly.  They weren't senzu or anything, Vegeta berated himself.  But there was always that expectation.

Stretching, Vegeta left the restroom and began walking toward the front of the plane.  His eyes wandered about lazily… which is when he finally spotted the lights on in the dojo.

_Have I lost all time sense, or is the woman that fast?  No… she's still in the house; there's still lights on in there.  Then…_

Vegeta allowed a tiny thread of ki-sense into his throbbing head, scanning the lighted dojo.  A large number of slightly above normal kis were gathered, with a few spiked above the others.  Vegeta closed his eyes briefly in realization.  The Spider students… of course.  They didn't know a thing of what had happened.  Vegeta sighed and made his way down the compact steps of the plane and across the lawn, patchy from dozens of sparring or playing children tearing up the grass.  The front door of the dojo was closed and locked, but he had clearance.

_They're probably too distracted to have sensed the plane.  Well, they ARE only children_, Vegeta conceded.

Vegeta was unexpectedly greeted in the hallway by a solemn faced Danton.  The young man's eyes were suspiciously red, but his face was defiantly set.  Vegeta remembered that he'd probably been with children all day, not being one of the advanced to come to the Lookout.  

Danton nodded to Vegeta.  "We're all in big room," he said quietly.  His voice was slightly hoarse.

"Everyone?" Vegeta inquired.

Danton shook his head slightly, slowly.  "Just Jita-sensei's students.  The little kids are all at their homes.  It's late, you know."

Vegeta never carried a watch.  "I hadn't noticed."

"What happened?" Danton demanded suddenly.

Vegeta crossed his arms.  The one day that he just wanted to go to sleep, he had to be answer man.  These brats deserve to know, though, he conceded.  "I'll tell everyone at once," Vegeta motioned toward the big room, the largest of the training gyms.

When the two entered the big room, Vegeta was confronted with what seemed to be a sea of faces, despite the fact that there were only fifteen of them.  He noted Pan in the corner, who had opted to wait among the students instead of with her family.  She gave him a weak little wave.  The room was automatically hushed, all eyes trained on the prince.

Vegeta cleared his throat and braced himself.  He knew that everyone there would be devastated, and that some of the reactions may be unpredictable.  He tried to think of ways to soften the blow, but he was unschooled in that.  He would just have to be honest with them.

"I do not have good news," Vegeta began.  "I suppose that the ones who were at the Lookout told brought everyone up to date?"  He noted the nodding heads and moved on.  "Goten has been rescued."

"Oh, thank Kami!" Pan exclaimed amidst the excited murmurs.  The look on Vegeta's face soon stopped the rejoicing.

"Yes, Goten has been rescued.  He will be training in the Afterlife for a year, so you won't see him until next year when we bring him back with the dragonballs.  But Jita…"  Vegeta trailed off, his eyes casting to the side a little bit.  The room was unbearably quiet, more than one student holding his or her breath.

Vegeta regained his voice.  "Jita… couldn't be rescued.  She has to remain dead."

More than one student gasped loudly.  Vegeta could barely watch as each of Jita's students dealt with the shock and grief.  He'd been expecting each reaction.  It was like he'd already seen it.  And he did not deter them from their grief, not even when Darjili, her eyes opened as wide as they could get, rose from her place on the floor and calmly left the room.

But Vegeta wasn't finished.  He knew that it would be best to give these young warriors something to focus on.  There was a danger that they would wish to give up fighting now that their teacher was dead, and Jita wouldn't have wanted that.  

"I know this is difficult," he spoke over the sobs, "but remember that life does not end now.  There is a new evil – Jita's killer.  He has kidnapped Jiten, and retreated to a dimension that we cannot access.  He has promised to return in a year.  In the meantime, there is nothing to do but to train for his coming.  Jita and Goten were training you with the idea of leaving behind a new generation of protectors for Earth.  You will probably not fight Jita's killer, but you must be ready anyway."

A trembling Pecon stood up.  "Vegeta-san?"  Vegeta acknowledged him with a nod.  "We are going to train.  Darjili and I are keeping the Spider school open in Goten and…"  He swallowed hard.  "In Goten's stead," he finished.  "That is… with your permission, of course.  You… are the closest authority over the school, I guess."

Vegeta crossed his arms in bemusement.  Sometimes he just didn't give these humans enough credit.  "Boy, you are probably closer in authority than I.  Fine.  Do what you want."

Pecon didn't smile, but simply nodded.  He was just too sick to smile.  

Everyone murmured in morose anticipation until Vegeta just couldn't stand it anymore.  With barely a nod, the Saiyan left his sister's students to their own devices and walked back into the plane.  He felt that he'd done all he could.

*****

Bulma was just walking downstairs when she heard a noise of tinkling glass.  _Thieves_, was the first thought in her mind, and she tensed up to call Vegeta as she entered the small living room.  But before she could even open her mouth, she saw the that it was just Tien's girl, Darjili.

"Darjili?" Bulma called to the student.

Darjili continued to sweep up the crystal fragments in the middle of the floor, using a small hand-broom and a well-used dustpan.  "Bulma-san," she replied quietly.

Bulma froze a bit.  She realized that Darjili would have no way of knowing everything that had happened.  In all the grief and confusion, everyone had forgotten the Spider students.  They weren't a usual part of the circle of warriors that handled every crisis on Earth.  "Darjili…" she began slowly, "I… have some bad news."

Darjili straightened from the floor.  "I already know.  Vegeta-san told everyone already; they were all waiting in the dojo."

Bulma simply nodded.  She could hardly picture her husband doing that, but everyone was acting strangely now.  Then Bulma realized that Darjili was a live-in – one of the eight.  "I… I'm sorry.  I was planning on shutting up the house for a year, but…"

"That is not necessary, Bulma-san," Darjili interrupted, her voice becoming a little firmer.  "Pecon and I plan to keep the Spider school going, as well as take care of all the other live-ins.  The rest of the Advanced class will join in teaching the classes."  Darjili looked down a bit.  "That is, with your permission."

Bulma smiled.  "You don't need to ask my permission, but you need my help.  I can take care of any legal trouble, if you're willing to take the responsibility.  I mean, you'll be responsible for taking care of six of the younger students.  Can you handle that?"

"Five," Darjili corrected.

"What?"

Darjili sighed.  "Cinty's mother picked her up and brought her back home.  You… might not remember Cinty.  Anyway, she was a live-in, but she was just an eight-year-old.  I guess I understand her parents," she ended, her voice sounding a little miffed.

Bulma smiled slightly.  "I've taken care of two eight-year-olds in my time.  You don't want that by yourself."

Darjili laughed a little bit.  Then she remembered.  "What happened to Jiten?" she asked.

Bulma jerked a little.  She'd almost forgotten.  "He was… kidnapped.  That think – whatever it was – took him and we can't get at him.  But the thing said he'd come back in a year," Bulma said quickly at Darjili's horrified look.

"Poor kid," Darjili whispered under her breath.  Her lips trembled.  "Um… Bulma-san?  I think I'm going to go upstairs and get all my crying done before everyone comes back in.  Get it out of my system."

Before Bulma could reply, the girl was gone, the dustpan laying forgotten on the floor.  Bulma, still slightly in a daze, walked over to the dustpan.  The shattered remains of crystal were unrecognizable, until she picked out one of the larger pieces.  It was Jita's face… from the statue, Bulma realized.

"Yeah, girl," Bulma said quietly.  "I think I am too."

*****

Goku was sitting on the floor, his back to their bed, when Chichi walked into the bedroom.  Chichi stared at her husband staring at the floor.  He'd already taken off his shirt and weighted clothing, which were now settled in the slowly forming indentions in a corner of the room.  He had the hanging expression of wild pup that had gotten lost from its family.  It made Chichi want to cry, or maybe yell.  Anything to break up that pathetic scene.

"Goku?" she said softly, moving over to her husband and putting a hand on his shoulder.  "What's… happened to you?"

Goku looked up at her and gave a smile, a pale shadow of his usual expression.  "It's OK, Chichi," he said with forced lightness.  "Nothing happened."

Chichi crossed her arms.  "Are you going to start lying now?"

Goku paled, his eyes growing incredibly wide.  Chichi nearly panicked.  _What did I say now?  "…Goku…"_

He looked away.

Chichi eased herself up on the bed, her arms circling around Goku's shoulders.  Goku leaned his head back against her, a move that both surprised and comforted Chichi.  Goku never leaned on anyone for comfort.  He never needed any.  Chichi's arms tightened instinctively.  What happened to him?  The question was like a mantra in her head.  Chichi knew what had basically gone on.  It was what all the "gods" had said would happen, and while it broke her heart to see Jita gone, and to such a horrible place, she'd somehow known that Jita wouldn't be coming back, and had even partially come to peace with it before they even had news.  But why was Goku taking it so hard?  It couldn't be that he had difficulty accepting that dead was dead this time.  He'd done that before.  There was more to it, but Goku looked like he wasn't talking.

"Jita chose to stay," Goku's voice cut through and belied her thoughts.

"W-what?" Chichi asked slowly, not sure if she had heard the soft declaration correctly.

"While we were down there," Goku continued, almost in a trance.  "The seal was broken.  If Jita had left, she would have unleashed the Voice. She… gave herself up and bowed to the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell to keep that from happening.  She could have left, but she didn't."

Chichi felt that she could literally pull her jaw off the floor.  "But, Goku…  Why didn't you tell anybody?  I mean… that's a noble thing.  She would have wanted everyone to-"

"No, she didn't," Goku cut in.  "She swore me to secrecy after knocking Goten and Vegeta out.  She didn't want anyone to know, because she was ashamed about giving her loyalty—"

Chichi sat back, overwhelmed by what Goku was saying.  "But why did you tell me?"

Goku shrugged slightly.  "I had to tell someone, and I didn't think Jita would mind you knowing.  She just didn't want Goten and Vegeta knowing."

The two spent the next few minutes in silence.  Finally Chichi shook her head.  "Such a selfless act," Chichi said in awe.  "That doesn't deserve Hell."

Goku didn't respond.  He was already asleep.

Chichi sighed and pulled him into bed, her training once again triumphing over his bulk.  She stretched out beside him and kicked the blanket further away.  It was too hot for a blanket.  It was at this time that Chichi usually reflected on her day while going to sleep.  She laughed at herself at the thought of doing that.  There was no way.

She would also seek out the ki signatures of her family, a skill she'd learned after being sick of being both helpless and ignorant during the various crises.  The absence of three kis made the tears flow freely again.  Goten was dead for now.  Jita was dead for good.  And Jiten…

_Oh, my.  I almost forgot Jiten._

*****

In a blanket of swirling gray mists, a child slept.  He'd been doing so for many hours, but who could tell how long mortal children slept.  His small figure was curled up into a fetal position and his tail was twitching behind him.  The only disturbance on his peaceful face came when a large-ish shadow fell across him.

"Wake up, child," a man in leather armor crouched over him, brushing the bangs out of the boy's face.  "It's time to play."

I thank all of my wonderful reviewers:

Silver Warrior:  You hit the nail right on the head, my friend.

Tonifranz:  You know, the best compliment I could ever get is to be called original.  I thank you.  About Goten respecting Vegeta more than Goku… that's not the first time I've done that in this fic.  Do you remember when Goten and Jita had a fight about Jiten lying a few chapters back?  It was Vegeta who talked sense into Goten, and he did it by saying that Goten was acting like Goku.  Yes, I did have Goten and Goku reconcile a while back.  The thing is, problems are not solved so neatly, especially within families.  Resentment dies hard.  I didn't want to do a quick fix for anything, especially dealing with emotions.  Plus, you must remember that Goten has just died, lost his wife, and possibly lost his son, all with going through horrible torture from the Voice.  He's not having a good day, and he's ready to lash out.  We tend to lash out at our parents during bad times.  About training – don't forget that I like to play with power structure.  Think of the name Leech, and what it implies.  That's all I'm saying about that.  Now, on to the Super Saiyan levels.  Level four doesn't exist with me.  I'm sorry, but I decided from the very beginning to ignore GT in this particular fic.  Notice that my Goten is extremely different from GT Goten.  I COULD have Vegeta go Super Saiyan 3, but what good would that do?  Keep in mind that I'm not having just another super-powered villain.  Super Saiyan 3 is the most erratic of any level, causing time distortions and power drains and who knows what else.  Level 2 is probably as high as I'll go with Vegeta.  I'll leave Vegeta level 3 to Dark Wolf.

Omega:  Don't worry, I will have fighting.  It wouldn't be DBZ without fighting.  Now, let's see.  Do I have everything planned or am I making this up as I go along?  Really, it's a combination of both, but leaning more to the former.  I know where each character is going, and what causes what.  With the details, I just go with the flow.  Of course, then I try to keep up with all my details in multiple lists and charts just so I don't write plotholes.  Anyway…

Aqua-illusions:  Hi!  You're back!  And with three yummy reviews.  I'm glad that you reviews each one individually.  Sometimes I just like to look at the climbing number of reviews.  OK, Goku never tricked anyone, as far as I can remember.  King Kai's just pissed and isn't really sure what he's saying, but just want to blame Goku anyway.  He's such a good target.  Don't worry, I won't write myself into a corner.  About Goku and eating… it's not that he completely forgot to eat.  In the Afterlife he had no normal bodily functions (there is evidence in the manga that dead people don't eat), and he'd only need food for energy to fight.  You get used to this after eight years.  I would imagine that suddenly coming back to life after being dead eight years would be an extreme shock to your system.  So Goku would go back to waiting until he was so hungry that he was ready to pass out, like he did in early Dragonball when he was taking care of himself.  Not many people wait that long to eat.  Anyway.  Ah, and you are the optimist.  Yes, it will make rescuing Jita a lot harder.  In fact, it will make it impossible.  Do you really think that Jita is going to get rescued?  Do you?  Keep reading then.

Dark Wolf:  Thanks.  *grins*  I always look forward to your high praise.  I'm glad you've gotten to the next chapter of Sarie Mue.  Howler and I are thinking of working on the Popo chapter this weekend, but we're not sure of an angle yet.  Oh, well.  Take care of that injury, dude.  : )


	40. Tired

Disclaimer:  I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes:  I know, I know.  It's been a while.  But this semester is finally over, so I have some free time.  It feels so weird, though.  I feel like I should be reading or writing something for a class.  But nope.  I can finally do things on my own free time.  Plus, I was finally able to find inspiration on this chapter.  I was stuck on the first three pages.  A line a day was good for me.  But for the past few days I've been manically hacking on this chapter.  I hope y'all enjoy.  I would make promises on the next chapter, but I'd probably break them anyway.

**Chapter 39: Tired**

The first thing that Jiten was aware of was a heavy feeling – a hurting all over – like he'd slept too hard.  He instinctively grabbed for covers, but they weren't there.  In fact…

Jiten's eyes slowly and cautiously worked their way open.  His eyes were gummy from sleep, so he impatiently wiped the grit away.  He took a quick look at his surroundings, but all he could seem to focus on was the hard ground beneath him.  It wasn't concrete, or tile, or wood, or metal, but a slightly warm combination of the four.  It was beige, and stretched as far as he could see.  At least, that's what it seemed like.  The sky was also the same color of beige, so he couldn't be so sure.

"Mommy?" he murmured drowsily.  Was this simply a new addition to the dojo?  "Daddy?"

"It's about time you woke up, Jiten.  I thought you were going to sleep forever."

Jiten turned over on the floor to the direction of the voice.  In his bewilderment, he didn't even power up or raise a defense.  He was beginning to think it was all a dream anyway.

"Wh-who are you?" Jiten asked, wincing as his voice came out extremely small.  "Are you a friend of my parents?"  In his little world everyone knew his name and his parents.

Finally the man stepped within sight.  The strange coloring of the place seemed to make for disconcerting optical illusions.  Jiten looked up… and up…  He was used to tall people, but this man was even taller than Piccolo.  When Jiten took in the sight of his fantasy-like leather armor and silver hair, only one thing went through Jiten's mind.  _Cool…_

But then Jiten's eyes suddenly widened.  "The Budoukai!" he shrieked.  "Mommy's gonna kill me!"

Jiten was up in a flash, wincing as his feet tingled from having fallen asleep on the hard floor.  He looked around frantically, but could find no indication that he was anywhere near the tournament stadium.  He looked up at the silver-haired man.  "Um, sir?  Could you help me get back to the Tenkaichi Budoukai stadium?  My parents are waiting for me, and they'll get mad if I keep them waiting too long."

The man squatted down to be at eye level with Jiten.  "Mad at you?  What for?"  The man cocked his head.

Jiten looked down and shrugged, shifting from one foot to the other.  "Well…  I'm not there, and stuff.  They might be looking for me."

The man nodded, almost regretfully.  "I see.  Well, Jiten, I'm afraid we're stuck here."

Jiten paused, blinking for a second.  "Stuck… here…?"

The man nodded again and sat on the ground.  "Jiten, do you know about other dimensions, where the rules work a little differently?"

Jiten nodded and then looked down.  "I've… um… seen it in, like, sci-fi stuff, and maybe my parents told stories about places like that before, but…  Are you saying this is an alternate dimension?"

The man grinned.  "Yeah, kinda like that.  I live here, in fact."

Jiten looked around, taking in the bizarre surroundings.  "You… live here?  Where's all the stuff?"

The man laughed, looking around at the nothingness.  "Actually, the stuff will come back in a couple of hours.  It's just disappeared right now.  Happens every year."

"Oh," Jiten said matter-of-factly.  To any other six-year-old this would have been bizarre in the extreme.  However, Jiten was used to believing bizarre stories about aliens and timelines and resurrection.  Being stuck in an alternate dimension with a fantasy warrior was less strange than, say, being stuck inside Buu conversing with really strong pieces of…

"Is there anything else you need to know, Jiten?" the man cut in.  "I know this is strange for you, so I'll do what I can."

Jiten frowned, considering.  "How long are we gonna be stuck here?"

"A year."

"A whole year?!" Jiten wailed.  "B-but I'm in school.  And I got training to do.  And everyone will be looking for me.  And—"

"Whoa!" the man said, holding Jiten's shoulders.  "Calm down.  I'm sure everything will work out.  I'm sure you're smart enough that you can miss a year of school.  And I'm sure your parents have found out what happened to you by now.  It's no reason to panic."

Jiten dropped to the ground, pulling his legs in Indian style.  The man had a point.  His parents knew an untold number of gods and psychics, and they might even be trying to get him out now.  He smirked faintly, picturing his reception upon return.  He knew that his father would be so relieved to have him back, when they thought he was going to be gone a year – and even forever – that he'd forget all about the stuff he'd been lecturing Jiten on.  Even his mother might be in the same way.  _Yeah, I bet they're sorry now for how they've been treating me.  I'll bet mommy wishes she let me fight in the Budoukai, now that they think I'm gone forever.  He smiled.  _Any day now they'll use the dragonballs or something to pull me back.  And then things'll be different.__

Jiten looked up and self-consciously realized that the man had watched him the entire time, patiently waiting for him to finish his thoughts.  Jiten grinned up at the knowing smile.  If he was stuck, at least it was with a nice, cool-looking man.  Jiten frowned partially, realizing something.  "Hey, what's your name?  You never told me."

The man sat down in front of him.  "It just hasn't come up yet.  Well… I go through a lot of names…  Tell ya what.  Just call me Hoja."

Jiten looked down, mulling over the name.  He finally found it to be acceptable.  "All right.  Hoja.  It's weird, but not bad.  Is it an alien name?"

Hoja laughed.  "Depends on who you are.  You are alien to me, and I am alien to you.  You are, in fact, partially alien to most of the people on your planet.  I am one of the last of my kind, so I am alien to everyone.  But, to answer your question, the name comes from Earth.  It's Indian, I believe.  Or… no… Turkish.  I forget what it means."

"Names don't have to mean anything."  Jiten started to unconsciously adopt the intellectual philosophical tone and pattern of Hoja's speech.  "My name doesn't mean anything.  It's a fusion of my parent's two names.  For my Saiyan name I was named after Uncle Vegeta, and he said that his name means 'pride.'"  Jiten laughed slightly.  "I guess they couldn't think of a name that means 'gets into trouble' for me."

Hoja laughed easily, but not patronizingly, Jiten noted.  It was like Hoja was a friend his age.  At least, he was like what Jiten would image a friend his age.  Jiten didn't make friends easily.  He couldn't really play any games or sports with any of the other kids, causing rather a rift between him and the other boys.  It wasn't that he couldn't excel in sports.  It was just that he either controlled his power so much that he wound up being a wimp or he'd cause something so fast and mysterious to happen that the game would break up while everyone tried to figure things out.  Then there were the students at the Spider dojo, but they generally avoided him.  Only the live-in Cinty would really hang around him, and she was just annoying.  He avoided her when he could.

Jiten felt a flicker in the air, causing him to break his train of thought.  The beige void was starting to waver and distort, with colors contrasting the sameness of before.  Jiten watched in rapt interest as colors and lines formed, as if on a painting, first green, then brown, then the two colors wrapped around each other to form trees and vines.  Along with the colors and shapes, sounds of various animals and running water dimly filtered through, first in a whisper and then slowly building up in volume.  Grass and dirt grew and formed around Jiten's knees.  The sharp scent of growth and animal and tree – that scent that Jiten always connected with life in abundance – grew in his nostrils until he thought he would be overwhelmed after the nothingness of a few moments ago.  The spectacle of a world suddenly building itself conjoined and ended with a dark wood house that seemed to grow right out of the trees, not taking up anything but sharing.  The house must have been there for a while, because the trees around it looked old and slightly withered, while the trees right next to those were near young saplings.

Hoja smirked at Jiten's astonishment.  "Well, it seems my calculations were off.  I must have lost track of time.  Well, what do you think of my little home?"

Jiten's eyes were still practically bugging out.  "That was… amazing!  How…  Do it again!"

Hoja laughed.  "No can do, kid.  Only happens once a year, and you probably don't want to be here for another year just to see it again.  Now, what do you say to something to eat?"

Jiten opened his mouth to answer, but a loud grumbling from his stomach interrupted him.  It seemed forever since the scrambled eggs and toast he'd eaten on the run before the Budoukai.  That reminded him of the smashed statue in the living room, so he pushed his thoughts away quickly and merely nodded at Hoja, who was already beckoning him to follow him into the house.

Jiten quietly took in his surroundings as he entered the house.  The first thing that stuck out at him was how neat and compact the place was.  It was a change from the constant mess that his house stayed in.  But it wasn't as painfully sparkling as his grandparent's house, where not even a crumb stood a chance against his grandmother's manic housekeeping.  It had a sort of comfortable lived-in feeling.  It was all one room, except for three doors which were probably closets or a bathroom.  Everything was small, made for perhaps two people.  Off to the side was a bed, with a smaller bed along the foot of it.

"Well, Jiten, what would you like to eat?  I can make pretty much anything," said Hoja, heading to the refrigerator.

Jiten snapped his attention to Hoja at the mention of food.  "Um, I don't know.  I guess anything you have?"

Hoja frowned.  "Salad?"

Jiten made a face, but quickly remembered to be polite.  "No thanks."

"Cat vomit?"

Jiten giggled, shaking his head.

Hoja continued to grin.  "How about blueberry pie through a funnel?"

Jiten again made a face, visualizing that.

Hoja smiled and began to pull things down from some cabinets.  "Well, I had my heart set on cat vomit and blueberry pie, but I guess I'll just have to make spaghetti."

Jiten calmed down and nodded.  "That'd be great.  Um, thank you."  He still wasn't really sure how to act around Hoja, and found it a little strange that Hoja was starting to cook while still dressed in full armor.  Jiten figured that he must wear it all the time.

While Hoja was otherwise occupied, Jiten began exploring the small cabin.  The living room took up most of the space that was left after the kitchen and beds.  There was no television, but he was used to not watching much anyway.  Also, it made sense, since they probably couldn't pick up anything in another dimension anyway.  There was a bright red couch and a leather armchair, which surrounded a low square table that had some sort of game built in.  It was electronic, but Jiten couldn't find an on switch anywhere.  He abandoned the game table to look at the writing desk in one corner.  It was fully stocked with drawing and sketching materials, along with a large set of paints, much to Jiten's satisfaction.  Perhaps his stay wouldn't be as boring as he had feared.

"Why do you have two beds, Hoja?" Jiten asked Hoja out of the blue.

Hoja looked up from the sauce, which was already producing a rather delicious aroma, making Jiten's mouth water.  "What?  Oh.  I used to have people stay with me all the time before this dimension got closed off."

Jiten frowned.  "Yeah, what's the deal with this place?"

"This place used to be connected to other dimensions, in a more direct way," Hoja started explaining while shaking in various spices in the big pot.  "But the universe changes, and dimensions get closed off.  Right now the only connection this dimension has is to your dimension, and that's only yearly for a single day.  So I go to your dimension every year.  In the meantime, the opening makes this dimension's reality disappear, so I'm much happier going off instead of staying here.  The portal opens on Earth, so I usually just stay there.  My favorite times are every three years, when I can watch the Budoukai.  I'm so lucky that it happens on the very day I'm allowed to go out."

"So you were watching the Budoukai?" Jiten asked, plopping down on the couch.

Hoja finally put a lid on the large pot.  "Yes.  Unfortunately, you must have gotten caught into my field when I was heading home.  I didn't notice until it was too late.  I couldn't make a return trip.  The portal would have closed in on us and we would have most definitely been stuck, and in a far less desirable place.  Do you like the thick spaghetti or the thin?"

Jiten thought for a minute.  "Thin.  So does that mean that you saw my parents fighting?"

Hoja smiled.  "The Spider Masters?  Of course.  That was a great fight.  Only…"  Hoja cut himself off and poured some water into another pot.

"Only what?" Jiten asked.  "What does 'only' mean?"

Hoja frowned, appearing uncomfortable with the conversation.  "Well… their fighting style just seemed so bland.  Like they only have themselves to spar against.  There was no originality."

Jiten expected himself to bristle at such comments, but he felt that Hoja was making valid points.  He got tired of sparring against the same old people all the time.  His mother went on and on about how variety was necessary in fighting, but when then teach him and make him go over the same old things.  He just wasn't getting as strong as would have liked, and it frustrated him to no end.

Hoja watched Jiten, seeming to read his mind.  "You know, I'm quite the martial artist myself.  I could teach you some of my own style, just to give you a little diversity.  Who knows?  Maybe you can surprise your mom and dad the next time you fight."

Jiten's eyes widened at the chance to have a different trainer.  He had been a little worried that he'd just have to train himself for the next year or so.  "That'd be great!  Thanks.  Hey, why don't you just stay on Earth if you like going there so much?"

Hoja turned the stove down a little as the water really came to a boil.  "Well, this is my home.  I like it here.  No worries, no one in charge of me.  I lived in the larger universe long enough, so it feels right to just stay here."

Jiten nodded.  "I get that."

In one move Hoja grabbed the noodles and dumped them into a colander over the sink.  Jiten eyed the small amount suspiciously.  "Are you sure that's going to be enough?  I… um… I eat a lot."

Hoja smiled.  "I'm aware of that.  But the density and nutritional value of my food is about three times that of Earth food.  Um… let me put it this way.  Eating one bowl of my spaghetti is like eating three bowls of Earth spaghetti."

Jiten brightened.  "Neat!  Is it ready?"

Hoja took the lid off the sauce, making the wonderful smell intensify.  He grabbed a spoon for a small taste, which made him smile with satisfaction.  "Yup.  It's done.  What do you want to drink?"

Jiten frowned slightly.  "Do you have any Coke?"

Hoja ducked under a cabinet.  "Yeah!  Well, sort of.  It's pretty much like Coke.  Coke doesn't really keep here all that well."  He poured some dark fizzing liquid from an unmarked bottle into a glass.  "See if you like it."

Jiten accepted the glass and took a tiny sip, expecting the worst.  There was a time when all his mother had bought was generic diet drinks, trying to save money.  A near riot amongst the live-ins caused her to change back.  But to Jiten's surprise, the stuff was actually good.  A little sweeter, but he didn't like a lot of bite in his soda.  "It's pretty good," he said, taking another gulp.

Hoja handed him a heaping bowl of spaghetti.  "I'm glad you like it.  Here, we'll just eat in the living room.  I'm not used to people coming over, so I don't have a dining room or anything."

Jiten shrugged, already walking over to the couch.  "I eat in the living room anyway, at least when I can get away with it."

As the two sat and ate, conversation halted.  Hoja seemed to respect that, like all Saiyans, Jiten wanted to devote all his attention to his food.  He got up three or four times for refills, and soon found that Hoja was right.  He was getting extremely full already.  Jiten let out a satisfied burp, and then covered his mouth apologetically.  Hoja smiled and let out an even bigger burp, prompting a rather long contest that left the two dissolving in laughter.

"I won!" Jiten exclaimed, practically rolling on the floor.

Hoja gasped for breath.  "No you didn't.  That last one was a hiccup.  That doesn't count."

Jiten was about to argue his case, but he was stopped by the fact that he was suddenly extremely sleepy.  He raised his glass for one more drink, but never made it.  The cup fell from his hand, landing on the floor and causing the last few drops to be soaked into the carpet.

The leech was suddenly very calm, but still smiling.  He quickly cleaned up the remnants of supper and stared at the stain in the carpet forcefully until it disappeared.  Then his attention focused on the sleeping boy.

"I really am sorry I have to do this to the boy," Hoja said to himself.  "I'd rather form the bond the natural way, but the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell hasn't really gotten to this one yet.  Who knew he'd grow up to be this stable with that lot?"

Hoja picked Jiten up, cradling his head carefully as if he were a newborn.  He laid the child on the small bed at the foot of his own and began moving his hands over the boy's head and hair, muttering strange alien words.  Jiten twitched slightly, but stayed asleep.  After a few moments Hoja sat back on his haunches and stared at the sleeping form, both of them slightly drained already from his probing.

"I'm sure I can form a strong enough bond this way," Hoja whispered.  "Children can turn from their parents so easily.  Though it's funny that I won't just wait.  Have I gotten so impatient after all these years of planning and waiting?  Building my power?  Ever since that damned green leech-slayer…"

The leech broke off in frustration, not willing to revisit the past, especially the one memory that haunted him the most – the memory of his own near demise.  The only salve he had for those wounds was the fact that he had killed the leech-slayer.  That "champion" was dead, and he was still alive.

"I've come a long way, and I've got to be careful," he continued to talk to himself.  "This is still the perfect disciple for me.  I'll still interact with him, but I'll just use this to help it along.  There's no real risk in that."  Hoja frowned.  "Still, maybe I should have kept that dagger.  It's much better for hypnotizing.  Although, it might not have worked after all, since it was stained with his father's blood."

Having seemed to settle that matter in his brain, the leech put his hands back on Jiten's face and began the process again.

*****

Goten trudged after King Kai.  That's the only thing you could call it.  A trudge.  His temper tantrum at his father had given way to a sort of numb feeling, a vague acceptance of events, past and present.  He'd barely even noticed the ride on the clunky plane, although in retrospect he wondered why they hadn't just flown to the planet on their own power.  It wasn't as if a flight through space could kill them, and there was no indication that the atmosphere leading to the planet had been any different from the atmosphere they'd breathed at King Yemma's.  But, then again, did it matter anyway?  He had the presence of mind to notice such things, but he was too numb to care.  Hence, the trudge.

Now they were surrounded by fighting aliens of all different kinds, making Goten have the vague feeling of walking through Jabba's Palace.  A boyish fantasy made him wonder where Leia in the slave-girl outfit was, and then he wondered why he was thinking such weird things.  _Maybe it's a side effect of death.  I'll have to ask dad sometime._

Thinking of his father brought on a brief flash of guilt and embarrassment.  He was slightly ashamed for what he said.  He'd just been reacting, saying the first things that came out of his mouth.  He knew that his father wasn't all to blame.  Jita had probably been too stubborn to allow help, and had gotten lost in the mix.  Besides, she'd told him repeatedly that there was no hope for her once she was dead.  But he hadn't listened.  She wasn't the only stubborn one.

So why had he blamed Goku?  Well, truth to tell, he still blamed his father.  Goten just couldn't help it.  Every time he tried to reason in his mind, a flash of white-hot anger filled him.  Goku had just stood there and calmly pronounced Jita's death, saying that the seal to the Lower Realms was now fully intact, as if that were some way of justifying Goten losing everything.  Goten hadn't merely been reacting.  He'd been telling the truth.  He didn't care if it sounded childish or pathetic; he'd lost his wife.  He didn't really regret a single word of what he said.  He only regretted that the words were true.

Goten dimly listened to King Kai's lectures and partial introduction.  He knew that King Kai was just trying to break the tension and distract him.  "… and over there is the South Galaxy champion.  You don't have to worry about him.  South Galaxy has always been too peaceful to produce any really strong warriors.  What you have to worry about it the West Galaxy.  Not that they're as strong as any from the North, but they're tricky.  Well," he amended, "except for Pikkon, of course.  That's who you'll work with.  Oh, hello, Olibu," he stopped, even as the Herculean purple-eyed warrior approached.

"Greetings, King Kai," the blonde man bowed slightly.  "Is this a new warrior?  It looks like he's from Earth.  I guess that means he's not going to stay around for very long."

King Kai laughed at the running gag.  "Actually, you're right.  Just a year.  Goten, this is Olibu.  He was the strongest of the Northern champions before Goku.  And Olibu," he turned to Olibu, who was slightly scowling at the reminder of Goku's strength over him, "this is Goten.  He's Goku's second son."

Olibu blinked and laughed slightly.  "_Second son?  When did that happen?"_

Goten smiled sarcastically.  "I guess he found the time on one of his brief stays at home."

Olibu cleared his throat, suddenly awkward.  "Well, it's good to meet you, Goten.  Are you going to be training with us?"

King Kai stepped in before Goten could open his mouth again.  "Actually, he's going to be training with Pikkon.  Goten's training to fight a leech."

Olibu nodded with understanding.  "Pikkon's specialty.  Good luck.  I've never met one, but I've heard that they can get pretty tough."

Goten laughed.  "Tough enough to kill me and my entire family."

"Okay," King Kai cut in, grabbing Goten's arm and steering him away from Olibu before he got downright rude.  "Don't want to take up more of your time, Olibu.  We have to find Pikkon now.  Goodbye."

As the two walked away Olibu shook his head slightly.  "Poor kid.  Newly dead and all.  Must be torture."  Then he brightened a bit.  "But he's Goku's son.  He'll bounce back soon enough."

Goten allowed himself to be led away from the heroic-looking warrior.  He didn't know why he'd been so rude.  The man hadn't done anything to him.  But that's just what Goten felt like.  Nasty.  Rude.  He didn't want anyone to be friendly or nice to him, and if they were his hackles rose.  He knew that he was behaving irrationally, but he just couldn't stop himself.  He couldn't stop his feelings.  He just – he just wanted everyone to leave him alone.  Just for a few minutes.  Or maybe a few years.  He didn't want to talk about his feelings – he wanted to kill something.  Preferably of the leech variety.

King Kai led Goten into the castle.  Having lived on the Grand Kai's planet for years now, he was allowed to come and go as he pleased.  It would be a while before he could get another planet to replace his old one.  It was sort of a penance for losing his old one, as well as meddling in the affairs of mortals.  Of course, no penance would stop him from doing it again, especially where the warriors from Earth were concerned.

They passed by various warriors and what looked to be guards (merely for decoration) and several matching ornate hallways.  The Grand Kai liked to live – grandly.  Finally, after Goten was sure that he would never find his way out even with sensing ki, they came to a set of double doors with the words "Pikkon: West Galaxy" inscribed on a small nameplate.

"So, do all the warriors get this?" Goten asked offhandedly.

King Kai cleared his throat.  "Only the ones that have been around here for a long time.  Pikkon is one of the eldest that's still active.  Most others get tired after a while and retire to heaven."  King Kai looked over at Goten.  "But you don't have to worry about that any time soon.  Just concentrate on your training and the fight next year.  I'm going to leave you now – I've got some business to take care of.  Please, Goten, try to be a little less… abrupt."

Goten nodded, relinquishing the argument.  "Don't worry, King Kai.  I'll be good."

King Kai was already walking down the hallway.  He called over his back, "And no jumping off of Snake Way!"

Goten watched him go and turned to face the double doors.  He'd heard his father mention Pikkon.  This was one of the friends that made Goku's time of being dead so happy.  Goten gritted his teeth, remembering his promise to King Kai, which he would try to keep at least a little while.  He approached the doors, but then realized that he didn't even know if he was supposed to knock or what.  The door didn't have a doorbell, so he figured that would be the polite thing to do rather than just barge in.  He raised his fist to knock.

"You know, you can come in if you want," a deep voice interrupted the motion of his hand, making him leave it in midair.  The door slid open to reveal the green warrior.

"Piccolo?" Goten asked incredulously.

Pikkon sighed.  "Yes, I know.  I look a lot like the Namek warrior Piccolo from Earth.  Your father told me that all the time.  I'm sure if we ever met we'd have loads to talk about – about being green and wearing weighted clothing.  Now will you just get in here?"

Goten was slightly taken aback.  "Um, I didn't mean to be rude.  It's just that you look so much like him, and I've never even met you before."

Pikkon climbed from the floor, where he had been sitting in meditation.  "I'm sorry.  I just get a little tired of it.  I am much older than this Piccolo, no matter what his identity comprises of.  I mean, how would you like to be called Goku wherever you go?  Your resemblance is quite remarkable."

Goten folded his arms.  "It's been done.  And, yes, it's annoying.  I apologize."

Pikkon straightened a fold that had slipped in his turban.  "I express my sympathies for your loss, both of your wife and your own life."

"Well, you're the first person to show any sort of feeling for death," Goten pointed out before he could stop himself.  What was wrong with his mouth today?

Pikkon raised one eyebrow.  "Well, that's what happens when you've been dead for hundreds of years and see people die practically every day.  You become a bit callous toward the whole thing.  It's not like we don't care.  It's just that we see it every day."

Goten crossed his arms, accepting this.  He looked around the room.  It was remarkably austere and pure white, mostly comprising of a large training room.  There were a few books and a chair in the corner, but otherwise there was no furniture.  "So I heard you were a friend of my dad's."

"Goku was a great warrior.  I admired him greatly," Pikkon said in a solemn voice.

Goten smirked.  "You speak like he's dead now."

Pikkon nodded.  "He is no longer in this plane of existence, so I guess he is dead to here.  I was surprised when he came back to life.  I thought he'd never want to leave here."

Goten rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, well, he never _did want to leave here."_

Pikkon shifted uncomfortably at the bitterness in Goten's tone, which made him seem very little like Goku.  "North Kaio-sama has informed me of your demise at the hands of a leech," Pikkon continued.  "I will be able to help you, but it will be difficult.  Especially with the fact that your son is his disciple.  You have a hard battle ahead."

Goten cleared his throat.  "How did you die?  I didn't think it would offend you to ask."

Pikkon nodded.  "It doesn't.  I was, in fact, killed by a leech.  I was a leech-killer by trade – there used to be many more than there are now.  I actually thought that the leeches were extinct, so I was rather surprised when I heard one was still alive."

"Surprised me too.  So… um… how do you kill a leech?" Goten asked, sounding off-handed.  "How did you usually kill a leech?"

Pikkon lowered his head.  "You probably won't like this, but I have to tell you.  The first step to killing a leech was usually to kill the disciple.  Then…"

"What?!"  Goten glared balefully, his eyes narrowing.  "There is no way you're going to tell me to kill my own son, or to let anyone else!  I've already lost my wife, and now my son?!  You—"

Before Goten could get another word in, he found himself on the floor, his jaw feeling like it was going to burst from pain.  After fighting a twinge of nausea, he lifted himself on his elbows.  "What?..."

Pikkon hauled Goten to his feet.  "Calm yourself, young Goten.  You've had a chip on your shoulder ever since you walked in here, and that will not serve you.  I did not order you to kill your own son.  So if you want to beat this leech and get your son back, you had better accept a few things and just forget about any difficulties with your father.  Otherwise I will not train you."

Pikkon let Goten drop, who fell unceremoniously on his butt.  Pikkon then resumed his seat on the floor, crossing his legs, the folds of his white flowing gi somehow falling perfectly into place.  He waited as Goten regained his feet, the ire in his eyes somewhat gone.

Goten lowered his eyes.  "I—I'm sorry, Pikkon," he said softly.  "I don't know what's wrong with me today.  I just seem to be blowing up at everyone."

Pikkon nodded.  "It is understandable.  I am not so soulless that I cannot understand pain.  The training will not begin today.  We have plenty of time for that.  For now, just rest up.  There's a guest room five doors down to the right.  I've arranged for you to stay there, since you probably don't want to give up food and sleep just yet."

Goten felt relief wash over him, and suddenly Pikkon seemed like an angel of mercy.  "I will… take you up on that offer.  Thank you."

Pikkon kept looking straight ahead.  "Anything for the son of Goku."

Goten forced himself to walk out without a comment, bowing politely as he left.  He began his trudge again, finding his room without any difficulty.  It already had his name and "North Galaxy" written on a small paper label beside the door.  He walked in, expecting the worst, but thankfully his new room was completely furnished and almost cozy, if it wasn't for the sterile feel of generic decorations.  

Ignoring all matters of hygiene, Goten flopped onto the large bed, automatically taking only the left side.  The softness and warmth of the bed was in true direct contrast to the horrors he'd experienced in the last… was it twenty-four hours?  Or longer?  His brain wanted to go over all of the events to see if he could have done anything differently, but every time he did all he could see was Jita, pale-white and covered in blood.  The tears formed in a lump in the back of his throat, and this time he didn't hold them back as he reached for a body that wasn't there.

*****

Krillen could make the trip to the Son House blindfolded.  If nothing else, the enormous ki of his childhood friend would draw him inexorably right to the doorstep.  For once, though, Goku's ki wasn't as high as usual.  Krillen at first figured that Goku was sleeping, but his ki wasn't in the house.  It was right by the river where he fished.

_He must have dozed off after a swim or something._

Krillen wouldn't have found that odd at all, except for the events of the previous day.  Krillen found it unlikely that Goku would swim and nap the day after his son's death, not to mention the death of his son's wife and his grandson's kidnapping.

As he thought this, Krillen gave up trying to work it all out.  He and Eighteen had of course been watching the Budoukai on the television.  They'd been making wagers on who would win the bout between Goten and Jita when it had all happened.  Then the various ki disappearances had made him more confused than ever.  About the time when Krillen had just made up his mind to go to the Lookout, Goku and Vegeta had appeared again and everyone was leaving.  He figured that he'd just wait until the next morning to talk to Goku.

Bypassing the house, Krillen made his way nimbly to Goku's river, half devising a plan to scare Goku awake.  Remembering the last time he'd hit Goku with a rock in the face – the only time he'd seriously irritated Goku – he dropped the plan.  What was he thinking?  Goku had just lost a son!  If anyone tried to joke around with Krillen if he ever lost Marron, he'd get severely mad.

The plan would not have worked anyway.  Instead of seeing his friend lying on the grass, snoring loudly, he saw Goku standing at the edge of the river, staring off into space.  Krillen edged forward nervously, not really sure of what to say.  Usually, in those situations, Goku would break the tension with just a smile.  Krillen waited for Goku to turn around and acknowledge him, but it was in vain.  Goku merely stared straight ahead, not saying a word.

Krillen broke out of the tense waiting.  "Uh, hey, Goku.  You okay over there?"

In a voice devoid of any life, Goku responded.  "Hey, Krillen."

Krillen was slightly taken aback.  He had never _ever heard Goku speak that way.  It was just a flat tired monotone that made Goku sound like a whole different person._

"So, um…" Krillen started, not sure of how to phrase anything.  "I saw what happened yesterday.  I'm sorry."

Goku didn't turn around.  "We're wishing Goten back in a year," he said in the same voice that sent a chill down Krillen's spine.  

Krillen brightened slightly, despite Goku's confusing mood.  "That's great, Goku!  Man, am I glad."  Then he turned slightly serious.  "But what about Jita?"

Goku's frame seemed to tense more.  "Can't do anything about her.  She's gone forever."

Krillen's eyes widened.  "Gone forever?  What happened yesterday—"

Before the question could properly leave Krillen's mouth, Goku had taken off, too fast for Krillen to even see in which direction Goku had gone.  Krillen shook his head, his eyes wide.   "What was that all about?" he asked the empty space.

*****

Gohan landed hard on the beach of the tiny island, making his foot tingle on the hard sand.  He looked around, the beach seeming slightly empty without Master Roshi napping on a lawn chair with his ever-present porn.  Umigame had followed Roshi's death closely, and Oolong had decided to move back into his old mansion now that the old villagers had forgotten about him and all their daughters had married.  All that was left living in the Kame House was Krillen and Eighteen, with Marron visiting occasionally.

"Krillen?!" Gohan called.  "You here?!"

Eighteen walked out of the house.  "You know, there is a door.  You can knock.  What were you, raised in a barn?"

Gohan scratched the back of his head.  "Sorry, Eighteen.  I'm used to someone always being outside."

Eighteen sniffed disdainfully.  "Krillen isn't here.  He was just going to your parents' house…"

She broke off when Krillen suddenly appeared in the sky.  "Here I am!" he yelled, landing lightly on the ground.  "I felt your ki-signature here, so I decided to come on home.  Maybe you can explain what's going on."

Gohan sighed.  "You saw?"

Krillen nodded, scratching the top of his head.  "We saw everything… well… at least what was on the television.  We didn't understand any of it, though.  And… well… we would have gone to the Lookout last night, but we weren't sure if there was anything we could do."

Gohan shook his head reassuringly.  "It's all right.  I was there for the whole thing, and there wasn't anything I could do either."

Krillen nodded, painfully understanding the feeling.  "Hey, let's talk over some coffee inside.  I think the weather's starting to turn."  Sure enough, the dark clouds were gathering quickly, and the air felt heavy and damp.

"Um…" Gohan began, glancing nervously at Eighteen.

Eighteen smirked.  "Don't worry.  Krillen made it.  I've given up on the intricacies of java."

Gohan let out a breath in relief, earning a snicker from Krillen, who earned a smack on the head from Eighteen.  "Ow."

The three walked in and sat around the table, pouring coffee and stirring in creamer or sugar according to preference.  Gohan took a warm sip and sat back, eased just a little.  "So," he began, "what do you know already?"

Krillen shook his head.  "Nothing really.  I saw this guy kidnap Jiten and kill Goten and Jita.  Then the guy's and Jiten's kis disappeared, followed by Goku and Vegeta.  Later Goku and Vegeta showed up again.  Now Goku's acting really weird, being all depressed and stuff.  He wouldn't really even talk to me.  All he said was that you're wishing Goten back in a year, and Jita's lost forever."  Krillen shrugged.  "That's all I really know."

Gohan just launched right into it.  "That guy… was a thing called a leech.  He kidnapped Jiten to make him his follower, or disciple.  They're in another dimension right now and unreachable for a year, when the leech promised to come back and kill everybody.  When Jita died, she was sent straight to the Lower Realms of Hell because she sold her soul when she died the first time to the master there for training and a chance to come back to life.  Goten followed her to rescue, but he got caught as well.  Dad and Vegeta had to travel through hell to get to them, but they could only rescue Goten.  Jita _is_ lost forever.  Goten's getting training in the Afterlife from someone who knows how to kill leeches.  I don't know why Dad's depressed, but it may have something to do with Goten.  So, the plan is to train for a year and confront the leech, wishing back Goten sometime in there."

Krillen stared, eyes slightly wide.  Then he took a sip of his coffee.  "That's about what I thought."

Gohan laughed under his breath.  "Yeah.  Predictable, really."

"Yeah," Krillen chuckled, and then fell into silence.  The pathetic attempt at levity was over.

"So there's no way to save Jita?" Eighteen asked.  "Dragonballs?"

Gohan shook his head.  "Jita asked specifically not to be brought back with the dragonballs.  She figured that she might not even possess a sound mind, even if she was pulled out."

"What about Jiten?" Eighteen persisted.  "Surely Shenlong can reach him.  Even if the leech shows up in a year, at least the boy would be safer."

Gohan shook his head again.  "Dende already asked Shenlong.  It's beyond his power."

Eighteen folded her arms.  "Seems like everything's beyond that dragon's power."

"So how many people have you told?" Krillen interrupted her, though he partially agreed with her sentiment.  It seemed that the dragon was only useful for bringing back the dead and materializing underwear.

Gohan looked down into his coffee cup.  "Wasn't many to tell.  Trunks was there, and he's told everyone around there.  Tien and Chaotzu were there, so they know.  I talked to Yamcha first, though."

Krillen smirked.  "Let me guess.  He's not going to fight, but he'll be there if we need him."

Gohan shrugged.  "Could you blame him?  I'm tempted to take that excuse too, but I'm too powerful to back out.  Besides, it concerns my family.  And… wait.  Did you say 'we'?"

Krillen gave a weak smile.  "Yeah.  I thought that's what you were coming to do – to tell me to train.  You guys are practically my family, so I didn't think it was just right to just sit around and watch everything happen."  Krillen laughed.  "I'd rather stand on the battlefield and watch everything happen."

"I will train as well," Eighteen announced.  "I won't die running like last time."

Gohan smiled.  "That's really great.  I guess we'll keep in touch until then.  Hey, um… is Dad really that bad off, Krillen?"

Krillen's weak smile completely vanished.  "I don't know.  I can't really tell.  I've never seen Goku depressed at all, so I don't know what kind of reaction this is.  I… just…  Something bad must have happened," Krillen concluded weakly.

Gohan nodded.  "He looked pretty upset and got defensive when Vegeta mentioned something about "leaving Jita behind" or something like that.  I don't understand.  But Dad's not talking, and Vegeta never talks."

Krillen shook his head.  "I would say this isn't like Goku, but maybe it is.  He's used to beating the bad guy, no matter what.  Now that he actually couldn't save someone, he doesn't know how to deal with it.  And he's been through a lot.  I guess we just never give him the chance to be human.  Um…  Saiyan?  Anyway, we never give him the chance to be like the rest of us."

Gohan nodded.  "Yeah, I guess.  It's just that I'm used to nothing fazing my dad.  Remember those ten days before the Cell Games?  I don't think I could have gotten through it without his cheery no-worries attitude.  Now… everything seems so… dead.  I can't even get the enthusiasm to train.  No one's really all that determined or anything like before."

Krillen sipped his coffee, and grimaced at the cold liquid.  "So does that mean you're not going to train?"

Gohan looked away.  "I'll train, but I'll know that it probably won't do any good.  Same with Trunks, I think.  And I don't know what any of the humans are going to do."  He paused.  "Except you, of course."

Krillen smiled.  "Well, we all know that Vegeta will train."

Eighteen snorted.  "He'd get up from his own funeral to train."

The two others laughed.  "Yeah," Krillen said, "that's Vegeta.  But what about Goku?  He usually trains."

Gohan ran one hand through his hair.  "You know, for once, I don't know.  I'll try sparring with him sometime, just to see if he will, but I get the strange feeling that he may not be as reliable in this.  I… don't know."

Krillen got up and put a hand on Gohan's shoulder.  "Don't worry, Gohan.  It'll work out somehow.  It always does."

Gohan smiled.  "Yeah… thanks, Krillen."  He finished off the last cold dregs of the coffee.  "Well, I gotta go.  I have an appointment in half an hour with a student.  I'll see ya."

As the demi-Saiyan flew off, Eighteen looked over at Krillen.  It amazed her that he could shoulder so much, and no one even know it.  The concern and worry was etching premature wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, making her eternal youth look ridiculous in comparison.  She wondered if she'd ever be able to show such concern for so many people at once.

"So," Eighteen said softly.  "We train?"

Krillen nodded gravely.  "We train."

*****

Jita wrapped her arms around herself as she knelt.  Her legs were starting to go numb and cold from sitting on them.  But she didn't dare move more than that.  Not without her Master's permission.

_Why is it so easy to call Him that now?_ she wondered.  _I resisted Him for decades – what felt like centuries – and now I'm taking to being His slave so easily.  Why is that?_

Jita could feel the Voice's presence around her, but she couldn't see Him.  It didn't matter, though.  She knew what was coming.  This was just a prelude of anticipation.  And this wouldn't be torture for a purpose, like before.  At one time she had thought the pain had been meant to beat her into submission, just so that she would surrender like she had now.  Now she realized that the pain had simply been to make her rebel, just so she would tear a hole big enough in the seal to release Him.

Jita smiled grimly.  She'd made that plan fail.

Her smile disappeared, however.  She wasn't allowed to smile.  She wasn't allowed to think badly about her Master.  All she was required to do at the moment was to kneel and wait for His bidding.  While she had never been a true slave herself, she knew how one was supposed to act.

But she couldn't help but let her mind wander to her family, her only true solace and peace.  She knew that it was anything but peaceful for her family, but once they had killed that leech and gotten her baby back, they would be much better off.  _Better off without a damned soul in their midst, causing them all danger.  And maybe He will let me see glimpses of them… if I am good._

The words that flowed through her mind so easily now she knew would have once repulsed her.  In fact, those words would have been unthinkable even the day before.  What had changed, besides trading in her freedom for the Voice's continued captivity?

_My pride_, she thought suddenly.  _I have no pride anymore.  I don't even have to put up appearances for myself anymore._

Jita chuckled inside.  _I've finally lived up to my name._

Jita wasn't even startled when the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell appeared before her.  She almost wanted to shrink back, but she didn't dare move.  She could feel His fury, and she knew what was going to happen.  It might be forever before He truly eased up on his angered torture.  Jita set herself, held her breath, and waited.  She didn't have long to wait.

_Jita faced her brother, the lizard she wanted to kill so badly cackling off to the side.  If only she could talk to Vegeta – make him understand.  But no.  She had never agreed with her in the first place.  He was displeased with her for going against his judgment and endangering them all with no chance for victory.  She knew that he would sacrifice her just for the chance to go on living and kill Frieza in the future._

_"Vegeta, look up," she heard the familiar silky voice._

_The full moon._

_Before Jita could rally herself, she was being crushed under a foot._

Jita gasped at the vision, somehow keeping herself from falling over.  The usual pain raced through her body.  _You know, Jita thought, __now that I understand what Vegeta was trying to do, it doesn't hurt so much.  That looks like one vision I can handle._

The world of Frieza's throne room dissolved, showing a very different throne room.  

_Jita faced her father, the king, her face simmering with anger and shame.  The entire elite court seemed to be laughing at her.  She'd burst into the throne room to demand a change in personal servants, and King Vegeta had forgotten the name he had given her.  She wasn't even sure if he recognized her at first._

_King Vegeta looked down at her like someone would look at a small annoying insect.  "Escort… Jita… back to her chambers.  And make sure the throne room is guarded a little more securely."  He nodded to a couple of elite soldiers, who bowed and moved to drag Jita off._

Again Jita considered her vision.  Sure, she'd been angry and hurt at the time, but she'd gotten over that, really.  She'd lived for so long among the Earth Saiyans that not having a tail seemed common place among Saiyans.  And she knew her father was a jerk.

As she felt the world shift again, she found herself in her chambers in the palace on Planet Vegeta.

_Jita stared out the window as the huge red ball of energy descended upon the planet, ripping apart and disintegrating Saiyan after screaming Saiyan.  Her eyes widened in fear as she realized the energy was heading straight for the palace…_

_And just how did I get out of that one again?_ Jita asked herself, not really paying attention to the vision.  _I was a little busy afterwards, and I just found myself on one of Frieza's ships, so I never really… What am I thinking?!_

The pain had gone.  Well, it hadn't really gone, but it was dulled to an intensity that Jita had learned to deal with many years ago.  Not only that, but she could actually deal with the pain of the visions and the emotions they brought on.  That had never happened before.  She was confused, so she decided to ask.

"Um, Master?" she began.  "Why aren't You hurting me?"

All she got back was silence, punctuated by deep gasps.  After a few minutes Jita finally dared to look up.  She saw the Voice's face twisted in fury, but also something else that could almost resemble fear.

He began to mutter to himself in rage.  "You little… you took everything… you knew what you were doing… all those years… I gave you **_EVERYTHING_!!"**

The last word was punctuated by a large wave of energy surrounding Jita.  She steeled herself, expecting the worst… but it didn't come.  Almost irritated, she deflected the energy aside like she would a spider web.

"Listen, I don't know if You're playing with me or something," Jita spoke calmly, "but it isn't funny.  If You're going to torture me, then get on with it already.  We only have all of eternity."  She paused, and then added as an afterthought, "…Master."

"I won't let you leave," the Voice seethed, having lost all of His calm and intimidating air in the wake of His fury.  "You destroyed my plans, so you have to pay."

Jita shifted her weight on her knees.  "Well, I'm right here, Master.  There's nothing stopping You."  She suddenly reflected on how ridiculous that conversation was turning out.

"Well," a soft voice came out of nowhere, "are You going to let her go already?  She's already beyond Your power."

The Voice suddenly took a sharp hiss of air and backed up, looking around wildly.  Jita also looked around curiously, still from her knelt position.

"You're not taking her," the Voice hissed.  "She's mine.  She sold her soul."

"And bought it back, as you are beginning to realize."

Jita was beginning to make a form out in the distance.  Before she could stop herself, she asked, "What do you mean – 'bought it back'?"

"Shut up," the Voice directed at her.  "You aren't going to stop me now, kai.  She's part of your precious seal.  She's mine forever."

The figure finally fully emerged from the shadows.  Jita looked over her shoulder to see a purple figure with white hair.  The man was wearing the most inscrutably calm expression she'd ever seen.

The man wasn't even looking at the Voice any more.  He directed his attention to Jita.  "Your legs are probably hurting.  Don't you want to get up or something?"

Jita stared at him a minute, nonplussed.  "But… um – I can't, cause the seal – and…"

The purple figure shook his head.  "You may be too tired and hurt to notice, but you'll feel it as soon as you get well again."

"What?" Jita asked, ignoring the seething man standing over her.

The man walked forward and knelt to eye level with Jita, also ignoring the Voice.  "Search within yourself.  That hole you've been feeling for so long?  Can you find it now?"

Jita eyed the man warily.  He didn't look like he was lying.  In fact, he didn't look like he could lie.  Pushing aside the pain that still lingered and closing her eyes, Jita searched for the hole – the evidence of her lost soul.  After a few minutes her breath quickened and she began to sweat, despite the frigid cold.

"It's… what… it's…"  Jita opened her eyes.  "My soul.  How is it possible?  And who are you?"

The man cleared his throat and raised both of them to their feet.  Jita's legs tingled harshly as the blood rushed back.  "I am the Supreme Kai, but that matters not.  It is time to go."

"You aren't going **_ANYWHERE_!" the Voice shouted desperately, throwing another wave of energy.**

The Supreme Kai deflected it with ease, much to Jita's amazement.  "Remember, Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell," he said in a mocking tone.  "You may be Lord here, but I created this place and this shield.  I've always been the most powerful here, and I'm even more powerful now.  I am leaving with Jita, and You will not interfere."

The Voice smirked.  "I am no longer intimidated, kai.  You showed your true weakness and cowardice in your fight against Buu.  You had to get a bunch of Saiyans to do your dirty work, while you stood off to the side and panicked.  You are no match for me."  With that He powered up an even stronger attack, drawing energy from all around.  Jita edged away.  She knew this attack, and didn't really see how the little kai could deflect it.

As the blast shot for its target, the Supreme Kai smirked, held his hand out, and scattered the shot with barely an effort.  Whispering a spell, he bound the Voice in midair.  All the Voice could do was kick with the effort to break the hold.

"You are no Buu," the Supreme Kai said calmly.  "You forget Yourself.  You are sealed, and You have failed to break the seal.  I commend You for Your plan.  Too bad You had to enslave a decent person.  And You are the last person to lecture anyone on getting Saiyans to do Your dirty work."

The Voice practically spat in anger, now simply relaxing in the Supreme Kai's bond.  Jita could actually see defeat in her Master's eyes, and only then did it sink in.

"I'm free," she whispered.

The Supreme Kai smiled kindly.  Yes, you are.  Now grab my hand, and we'll get out of here."

Jita pulled her hand back.  "I can teleport myself."

"You don't know where we're going.  And, no, you're not going to break the seal now," the Supreme Kai concluded what Jita was really worrying about.  "You're not a part of the seal, and you're under my protection."

Jita nodded.  "Fair enough."  She looked over at the Voice.

"Just shut up and go," the Voice spat out bitterly.

"Master…" Jita began.

**_DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME?_" the Voice screamed, nearly berserk with rage and frustration.  **_DID I STUTTER?!  YOU WON!  NOW GET OUT_**"**

Jita grabbed the Supreme Kai's shoulder in an almost panic, and before she knew it, the familiar feel of teleportation surrounded her.

At least, it was familiar until she felt a stab of icy cold race through her semi-paralyzed body.  Jita gasped without air, wishing to flail her arms to reach some indication of material form.  The cold nothingness seemed to last forever…

…until she landed hard on the ground.  A soft grassy ground.  With a light blue sky overhead.  And a warm sun beaming down.

Jita unsteadily got to her feet.  Her head was still ringing from the prolonged teleportation.  "W-what just happened?"

The Supreme Kai circled around to her line of vision, since she didn't really look steady enough to turn around without falling.  "Just give it a minute.  Your body's still adjusting.  Here, I think this will help."

A warm glow enveloped Jita, mercifully banishing all cold from her bones, as well as all pain and fatigue.  She stretched luxuriously in the feel of new vigor.

Then it all struck her.  It all sunk in.  She was free.  She had a soul.  She was…

"Well, no, I'm not alive," Jita smirked.

The Supreme Kai laughed.  "I'm a healer, not a miracle worker.  Well… maybe a miracle worker, but I can't raise people from the dead."

Jita grinned, knowing she was looking a little goofy, but not really caring at the moment.  "But I've never felt so alive!"

The Supreme Kai nodded.  "Regaining your soul and freedom will do that to you."

Jita stared off into space for a second, still grinning, and then let out an enormous **_WHOOP_ of pure enthusiasm.  The Supreme Kai looked slightly startled, but then grinned.  Jita's mood was contagious.**

Jita caught herself and settled down.  She was slowly starting to regain a sense of pride, and yelling like an idiot didn't seem to fit with her personality.  "So… what happened, Supreme Kai?  I'm still not clear on it all."

The Supreme Kai raised his hands, as if to deflect her questions.  "Call me Shin.  And I would think you would need a proper rest before any explanations."

Jita crossed her arms.  "I feel fine.  Tell."

Shin sighed, knowing it was impossible to reason with a Saiyan.  "You've probably figured out that I constructed the seal around the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell."

Jita nodded.  "Yeah, that's pretty much explained.  Now how did I get my soul back?"

"Simple," Shin said.  "Self-sacrifice.  For the most pure and noble reasons ever."

Jita lifted an eyebrow.  "Really?  How clichéd is that?"

Shin rolled his eyes.  "That's just how I constructed the seal.  I could never make it strong enough to keep the Voice from pulling in people if they did so voluntarily, but I was able to make a loophole for repentant souls."  Shin shook his head.  "I've been remiss in watching Him, what with the whole Buu thing and all.  I didn't know it had gotten so far until it was too late for any of my intervention.  And if I told you about the loophole, it wouldn't have worked.  You would have been doing it in the view of self-interest."

Jita smiled.  "No arguments there.  And I loved how you bested and humiliated Him down there.  I just wish you could have smacked Him around some more."

Shin chuckled.  "Do you think I'm the type to slap people around, perhaps saying 'Who's your daddy?'"

Jita laughed at the mental picture, finding it all together disturbing.  "So, what was that feeling when we were teleporting?"

Shin crossed his arms.  "Um… I'm afraid you're not – entirely – free from the ramifications of the seal.  I had to be very careful getting you out.  But not to worry," Shin added hastily as Jita's face twisted in horror.  "I knew what I was doing.  It wasn't beyond my abilities… it was just difficult."

Jita breathed deeply.  "So am I completely free from it now?"

Shin looked down.  "Maybe.  I'm not sure.  You're one of a kind, Jita, and there is no precedent.  The only way to be sure is a year's quarantine of this planet."

Jita's eyes widened.  "I have to stay here?"  Then she shrugged.  "Well, I'm dead anyway.  Here's as good a place as any to spend the time.  I just need to communicate with my family to tell them I'm alright."

Shin shook his head.  "No, Jita," he said softly.  "You can't.  I mean a full quarantine.  No communications out."

Jita did the figures in her head quickly.  "But… then they won't know in time to wish me back with the dragonballs.  Plus, I need to see how Goten's doing.  And Jiten…"

"I'm sorry," Shin cut in.  "There's just no way.  Maybe they can use the Namekian dragonballs, or maybe they will wish you back anyway, just to try it.  But if you leave or communicate out of this planet, you're putting the seal in danger."

Jita closed her eyes, knowing it to be true.  "Well," she said softly, "I got my soul back.  That's what counts.  I just wish I knew where my son was."

Shin smiled.  "I think I can help you out there.  The thing that killed you and your husband is called a leech.  He's… kidnapped your son and taken him to another dimension, wishing to make him his disciple.  They will return in a year from yesterday to kill all the warriors on Earth, and then probably to take over the universe.  Goten is still dead, training to beat this monster.  I'm not sure if he's going to succeed, though."

Jita turned sharply.  "What do you mean?"

Shin gave Jita a serious look.  "The odds are stacked against him.  If he is to fail, you will be the only hope."

Jita snorted.  "What are you talking about?"

Shin smiled inscrutably.  "I think you know."

Jita's head jerked up, her eyes wide.  "No."

Shin frowned slightly.  "The leech gains power by leeching it off other sentient beings, as you well know, since he did the exact same thing to you.  That won't be a problem for…"

"No!" Jita said more emphatically.

"But if it can be controlled…"

Jita turned around.  "I can't control it.  I never could.  I'm not even sure how to begin it, much less make it end."

Shin squared his shoulders.  "I'm sure we can find a way to control it, and make it end."

Jita closed her eyes.  She knew she would do anything to save Jiten.  "It will be a last resort," she conceded.

Shin smiled.  At least he had that much.  "Good.  We will start the training… tomorrow.  For now, get some rest."

Jita nodded in gratitude, and then looked around.  "So, where's your house?"

Shin cocked his head.  "I don't have one.  This planet is my home.  I've never needed a building to live in."

Jita frowned for a second, and then nodded.  "I can sleep out in the open.  As long as there's no perverts around."

Shin sweatdropped.  Sure enough, at just the wrong, and therefore ironic, moment, the elder kai appeared over the rise in front of them, chasing after a magazine from his extensive collection that was blowing away in a particularly strong gust of wind.  Shin could hear Jita groan from behind him.

Rou Dai Kaioshin finally caught the magazine right in front of Shin and Jita.  "Well, you're back, young 'un.  And who's this pretty little lady you brought back with you?"  The elder kai grinned lecherously at Jita, who gave him a thoroughly disgusted look.

Shin set his teeth against the conflict he knew would arise.  "Honored elder, this is Jita.  Remember the Saiyan Vegeta?  This is his sister."

During the introduction, the elder kai had gone in to take a closer 'look' at Vegeta's sister.  Jita maneuvered out of his reach and somehow materialized a large wooden mallet, using it to wallop the old man in the face.  The elder kai fell to the ground, momentarily stunned.

"There," Jita smiled in satisfaction.  "Now that we've reached an understanding, I suggest you not come anywhere near me for the next year.  Got it?"

The elder kai was too dazed to respond.  Shin scrambled for an apology.  "You must excuse the honored elder.  He does not mean to offend.  He's just…"

"…just a lecherous old man," Jita finished the thought.  "That's all right.  He's harmless.  He won't try anything," she said, shouldering the mysterious mallet.

Shin smiled in relief.  He'd been hesitant of keeping her there, but he really hadn't had a choice.

Jita suddenly yawned, the fatigue overtaking her rapidly.  "I'll take you up on that offer for a rest.  I feel like I could sleep for two days straight."

Shin chuckled.  "Sleep yourself out.  Your body needs to catch up before you do anything that resembles training."

Jita nodded and walked for a little ways, settling down under a tree to get out of the sun.  The grass was surprisingly soft and squishy, almost as comfortable as her bed back home.

No.  What would really make it comfortable was if Goten was right here, and I could reach out and touch him.  Or if I could walk down the hall and watch Jiten sleeping.  Or…

Jita felt an involuntary tear spill down her cheek.  Suddenly, her soul didn't seem like enough.  Before any more tears, she forced herself into sleep.  

Reviewer thanks:

Silver Warrior:  I hope this chapter made you a little happier about the 'good guy's' chances.

SsJ ChiKa:  New person!  Hope you're still reading now.  And there's some Jiten-goodness that I hope made you happy.

Dark Wolf:  I hope you couldn't see any fatigue in this chapter, despite the name.  Maybe a little, though.  I hope you don't go crazy any time soon.  *laughs*  Update already! (says the hypocrite).

aqua-illusions:  Maybe now I'm putting a few of the shards of your illusions together.  And maybe I'll end the story with a barbeque on a cloudy day… where the food sucks… and it's before a funeral of half the characters…  No, I will not get that depressing for the ending.  I'm just jokin' ya.

Tonifranz:  I hope I'm not going over the top with poor Goku.  I just wanted to do something different and interesting with him.

Omega:  You know, I worked really hard on that last chapter, with every word being painfully ripped out of my imagination, and all anyone can say is that it's the short chapter.  *laughs*  No, I'm not as bitter as a sound.  It's just funny.

Lil Shady:  It'll be a while before you even read this.  This is for your review around chapter 25.  I'm glad you're reading my story.  And, no, I wasn't disappointed with your last chapter (the one right after Vegeta died).  I was just half asleep and not even sure what I was writing at the time.  I tend to not be as positive during those times.


	41. Redyei

Disclaimer:  I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes:  I know, I know.  It's been months.  Let me just say that when I started writing the next chapter, I kept thinking of things that needed to be written before.  So, in essence, I've been working on the next three chapters.  So I probably won't be all that bad in updates for the next few times.  I just hope I still have all my reader.  Oh well.  I'll just have to e-mail everybody and pray.

Chapter 40: Redyei

Jita stretched luxuriously after her first restful sleep in a long time.  That very concept marveled her.  A restful sleep.

She had not gotten up yet.  The soft grass beneath her was so perfect and made her wonder if she could ever go back to sleeping in a bed again.  

_Where am I again?_

"Jita?" she heard a soft voice tentatively call.  "Are you awake?"

Jita sat up to see the small purple figure, and remembered.  She raised an eyebrow, hiding the emotions of grief and joy that were mixing within her head.  "Yes, I am awake," she simply said.

Shin was not convinced of her apparent calm attitude.  Of course, he was a mind-reader, so that was to be expected.  "So," he said as delicately as possible, "you had a peaceful sleep?  No…"

Jita actually smiled at that.  "Set your mind at ease, kai.  The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell did not bother me last night.  No dreams or visions or such nonsense."

Shin's worried frown melted in relief.  "You understand why I'm concerned.  This is a new thing.  No one's left his service before."

Jita raised an eyebrow wryly.  "Well, I'm certainly glad to be unique."

Shin chuckled.  "Anyway, there's a clean pond over there that you can bathe in.  I'll be over that rise with breakfast.  I'll leave some clean clothes for you over here."

Jita frowned as he began to leave.  "Bathe?  You mean, out in the open?  Sleeping's one thing, but…"

Shin laughed.  "You will be perfectly safe here, Jita.  If you're worried about my honored elder, then don't.  I think he's too scared of you now to peek."

Jita folded her arms.  "That's as it should be."

Even so, Jita was still uneasy about the whole idea.  She was quarantined on a planet with two men and no buildings for privacy.  Her reason told her it was all right, but her instincts screamed against it.

"It's time I stop being so overly cautious," Jita muttered to herself.  Stubbornly preparing herself, she marched down to the pond.

Jita took her time with pulling off her clothes, stopping every few seconds to look around for spies.  She knew that she sensed both kais pretty far away – at least out of sight – but she didn't know if there was some kai ability of projecting ki.  

And then she stopped.  She realized that she actually didn't care.  She felt too… good… to care.

Smiling, Jita shucked off the rest of her clothes and dove into the water.  She had been expecting a harsh chill, but the water was perfect temperature, as well as perfectly clean.  Impossibly so.  The floor was dirt, but as soon as she stirred up any, it magically settled back to the floor.

Yet she wasn't confident enough to linger.  Jita bathed quickly and mechanically, and then pulled herself out of the water, drying herself with a carefully controlled burst of ki as she went.  Then she scrambled over to her clothes.

Sure enough, Shin had materialized some clean clothes for her, if a little awkward.  Jita smirked at the selection, reminding herself that, whatever else, Shin was a man and therefore clueless.  He had remembered the right underclothes, but he had also overestimated her size up top.  She didn't know whether to be slightly flattered, even though she was still flatter.

And the clothes were identical to what the kai's were wearing – a big bulky tunic set.  She pulled it on as best she could and decided that she would have a talk with the kai during breakfast.

Speaking of breakfast… she thought, the tantalizing aroma beckoning her forth.  She grinned and ran over the hill, leaving behind the hideous pointy shoes.  There was no way she was going to wear footwear that came to a point.

She reached the summit to see a blanket spread out with what she considered just enough food.  She was voracious, but she controlled herself and approached slowly.

Shin was eating a much smaller portion.  "Hello, Jita.  I hope this repast is appropriate.  I tend to lose touch with what most mortals eat."

Jita grinned.  "Right now, I could eat anything."  With that Jita practically attacked the food, all cautiousness forgotten.

After the meal, Jita started to stack plates, absently forming a plan in her head to wash them over at the pond.  Before she could even form two good stacks, the plates and blanket disappeared.

Jita looked up, startled.  Shin was smiling.  "I thought you could let me do the dishes."

Jita shook her head slowly.  "There has to be something I can do around here.  I don't feel right having you clothe me and feed me."

"There certainly is something for you to do around here," Shin said matter-of-factly.  "You can train.  Listen, Jita," he cut off her protests, "you are a guest here.  You are perhaps even a student, if you will.  You can drop the wife/mother persona for now."

Jita pursed her lips.  "I make my own live-in students do their share of chores."

"You will train," Shin said a bit more strongly.

Jita was about to protest more, but she saw that it was a fight already lost.  So she folded her arms and tried to not look like she was pouting.

"How do you expect me to train in these clothes, anyway?" Jita asked suddenly.

Shin looked up, startled.  "What's wrong with those clothes?  They look fine."

Jita sighed and crossed her arms, making the stiff fabric bunch and crinkle.  "You may be a kai, but you're not a tailor.  Just because I'm female doesn't mean I'm built like Wonder Woman."

Shin blushed a bright purple at that.  "I hadn't really put that much thought into it."

Jita smirked.  "OK, how about trying to adjust the clothes right now while I'm wearing them, and I'll tell you if it's right.  Can you do that?"

Shin gulped.  "I guess so.  You won't hit me with a mallet, will you?"

Jita laughed.  "Of course not.  Now shrink 'em already."

Jita felt both the bra and the shirt shrink and mold to fit her perfectly.  She was about to suggest the next improvement, but she stopped as she felt the pants line up form to her.  She smiled.

"Anything else?" Shin strangled out, still supremely embarrassed for having to get that personal.  He was horrified when she nodded her head.

"I don't like the baggy shoulders, or the shirt that goes on below my waist.  Just make the shirt end at my waist, ok?"

Shin nodded, relieved that it wasn't anything more personal.  With a pop, Jita's outfit finally became somewhat stylish.  At least Jita was happy, and Shin was relieved.

"So exactly how am I going to train?" Jita asked Shin sarcastically after she had finished making sure her outfit was up to her standards.  "You got another sword in a mountain around here?"

Shin chuckled.  "No, nothing around here.  You remember you said that you were unique earlier.  And you must remember what we talked about last night."

Jita's eyes cast downward.  "I had thought you had forgotten about that," she practically whispered.

"I had not," Shin said.  "I know that you want to make it a last resort, but what do you propose, Jita?  I was aware of your uneasiness, I though all night, and I'm out of ideas.  If you have any other plans, now's the time to say something."

Jita looked down, quiet.  "I've got an idea," she said quietly.

Shin waited.

"I'll just kill the leech, and then take my son home."

Shin sighed.  "You know that's not going to work.  It's not that simple."

Jita looked up.  "I know it's not that simple.  But I can pretend, can't I?"

Shin understood then.  Jita knew what had to be done.  Of course she knew.  She wasn't stupid.  She just severely didn't want to do it, and was putting up as much resistance as possible.  Shin could understand that.  He realized that he may have to approach the whole thing a little more slowly and back off for now.

"So," Jita jumped up, "what are your plans for this training in my ability?"

Shin looked up, startled.  "Uh…  All right.  Here's my plan.  First, I need to be aware of the circumstances of each of your transformations."

Jita shook her head.  "First give me the plan.  Then I deem it worth answering your question."

Shin nodded.  He knew it would be hard for her to bring everything up.  "In order to prompt you to your transformation, I wish to recreate the emotional environment…"

"Through the use of visions," Jita finished for him, looking ahead dully.

Shin paused.  "In a word, yes."

Jita's lips pursed, and a look of defeated dread flickered in her eyes.  Shin knew what this would do to her.  He felt ashamed that it had to be done, but he doubted Goten's ability to defeat the leach.  He knew that the boy was getting in way over his head, and their only chance was Jita, in her most powerful form.

"The first time was on Planet Vegeta," Jita broke softly into the silence.  Her soft voice still startled Shin.

"Yes?" he said gently.

Jita spoke in a monotone, staring straight ahead.  "Frieza was killing our world.  I was in my room when I saw the sky turn red – redder than usual.  Then I heard the screaming of Saiyans too far gone in pain to remember anything like pride."  Jita looked into Shin's eyes for a moment.  "Pain does that."

Shin nodded.  "Yes, I know."

Jita gave him a look that said that he truly didn't know, and then continued.  "I don't remember every detail, or how I did it.  But I transformed and escaped.  The second time…" Jita took a breath.  "The second time I was in hell.  The Voice had pushed me to my limits and beyond with both torture and visions.  I transformed, and he was able to pull me back with the pain that he could still inflict upon me."

Jita looked up almost accusingly.  "Is that what you needed to know?"

Shin looked down.  "Jita, we don't truly have to do this.  You know that I'll be trying to use visions of those instances to induce the transformation.  If you say no now, then I will forget it.  No bugging and no recriminations."

Jita was quiet for a long time.  Shin was about to take it that Jita was refusing, but then Jita looked up.  "No.  I will train.  Let's… let's do this."

Shin smiled and nodded.  "Are you ready to begin?"

Jita nodded shakily.  "Yes."

*****

Goten woke up in complete disorientation.  He was wondering at first where Jita was, and then where HE was.  When he got up to look at himself in the mirror, the halo reminded him of everything.

"Oh yeah.  I'm dead," he mumbled.

For being dead, he thought wryly, he sure felt like any other morning.  His hair was sticking out more wildly than usual, his chin was covered with darkening prickles, and his eyes were red and gritty.  _On the other hand, I look like a zombie now._

At that thought he actually chuckled.  It was a wonder he was keeping his sense of humor, however wry and sarcastic it was turning.

After staring at himself for a few minutes more, Goten decided that he wanted to look less like a zombie.  He noted with satisfaction that someone had brought in a clean gi to replace the scruffy one he had died in.  He unfolded the nondescript blue gi to make sure it was the right size, and then walked into the tiny adjoining room for a shower and a shave.

Fifteen minutes later, Goten was ready to face the world, whatever world it might be.  He left his own room behind and knocked on Pikkon's door.

There was no answer.

He tried knocking a bit more forcefully, but still got no answer.  Goten decided that Pikkon probably had gone outside.  He began walking down the corridors… and promptly got lost.

Every door and stairwell looked like another.  There were absolutely no distinguishing marks of any kind.  Goten absently considered leaving a trail of bread crumbs, but that thought only made him hungry.  He hadn't eaten since the morning of the Budoukai, and those eggs and toast hadn't gone anywhere.

Tired, irritated, and hungry, Goten trudged down the corridors.  He couldn't use ki signals, because there was not a straight shot to the outside, apparently.  He had considered blasting through the palace, but that would have been rude, to say the least.

"Hey, man, are you lost there?"

Goten turned around at the sound of the low-pitched voice.  What greeted him was the sight of an old man in denim and leather, long white hair, and a boombox slung over one shoulder.  Goten almost had to cover his mouth.  The man looked like a biker so far past his prime that it was ridiculous.

"Yes, sir," Goten said.  "I'm new here, so…"

The man chuckled.  "Dude, compared to me, almost everyone's new here… except the cockroaches.  You tryin' to get out?"

Goten was about to answer, but that was when his Saiyan stomach decided to make itself known in the usual way.  Goten looked away, embarrassed.

The white-haired man laughed.  "I see.  Hear you loud and clear.  Well, looks like we're both late sleepers, so the mess hall will be empty.  But we can still get grub.  Come on."

"Yeah, thanks!" Goten responded, trailing after the man.  "Hey, I'm Goten."

The old man looked back at him and flashed a grin.  "Call me Trogdor."

Goten gave him a weird look.  "Trogdor?"

Trogdor stopped and looked at him.  Magically, a heavy guitar riff came from his boombox.  "Cause the dragon comes in the NIGHT!!!" the man sang, ending in a high note.

With that Trogdor walked on.

Goten sweatdropped a second, and the smiled.  This guy was cool.  Wickety-whack, but cool.

Trogdor deftly led Goten through the corridors, leaving Goten with a removed, disoriented feel, until they finally showed up at what looked to be a slightly upscale cafeteria.  Sure enough, no one was there, not even any cooks.

Trogdor merely looked around and grunted in amusement.  "I guess it really is self-serve today.  C'mon, Goten.  Let's go raid the fridge."

Goten agreed enthusiastically.  He'd been trying to figure out who this person was.  He wasn't dead, so he couldn't have been any training warrior.  _Maybe he's, like, a janitor or manager or something_, Goten theorized.  Either way, Goten felt right at ease for the first time in a while.

In three trips Goten and Trogdor had covered an entire table with anything and everything they could get their hands on.  Anything that needed to be warmed up was done on the spot with a bit of ki.  Then they began polishing the spread off.

"Ha-ha," Trogdor laughed after he'd finished, with Goten still going strong.  "You sure do pack it away.  You need to stop for breath?"

Goten looked up, swallowed, and laughed carelessly.  "Well, it's not the greatest, but I'm too hungry to tell the difference."  Then Goten blushed at his own bad manners.  He hadn't meant to go right out and insult anyone!

Trogdor laughed again.  "I suppose you're right.  So what brings you up here, Goten?"

Goten slowed down a bit.  "Well, I died… um… as you can tell, but I'm going to be wished back in a year to fight the leech that killed me and my wife and kidnapped my son."

Trogdor nodded.  "So, you're probably working with Pikkon."

"That's right," Goten said.  "I'm not sure what I'm going to learn, only that he's trying to find a way not to kill my son in the process."

Trogdor let Goten finish eating.  If Goten had been watching the old man, he would have realized that Trogdor was sizing him up.

"Well, Goten," Trogdor said, getting up.  "I hope your training goes well.  I better get you out to Pikkon, or we'll both be in the dog house."

Goten wiped his mouth.  "You sure we don't need to take care of this mess?"

Trogdor waved him off.  "Forget it.  I'll take care of it later.  Let's get going."

After innumerable corridors, the two finally made it outside.  Goten spotted Pikkon in the distance, and began to edge toward him.

"Hey, dude," Trogdor said.  "If Pikkon ever lets you off, let's hang out.  I'll show you my vinyl collection."

Goten grinned.  "Sounds great, man.  I'll be there."

"Goten!!" they heard a deep voice call.  Pikkon was stalking forward, miffed at Goten's late appearance.  "Where have you been, boy…"

Suddenly Pikkon caught a glimpse of the old man with the boombox.  He abruptly knelt, trying to pull Goten down with him.  "Greetings, Grand Kai.  I did not see you."

The Grand Kai, alias Trogdor, waved him off and laughed.  "S'okay, Pikkon.  Just getting' to know your new student.  Send him over to me if he ever has free time.  He's a cool cat."

As the Grand Kai walked off, Goten sweatdropped.  "That was…"

Pikkon got up and smirked.  "So he didn't tell you?  Typical.  He actually hates groveling."

Goten cocked his head.  "So why…"

"Tradition."  Pikkon smiled.  "Don't worry, kid.  Your father never bowed to him either.  Do him a favor and treat him like you were."

Goten grinned.  "No problem there.  So, where do we begin?"

Pikkon's levity evaporated to intense focus.  "Next time I'll be sure that you're up earlier.  I did not think of you needing to eat since I do not require sustenance myself.  However, you now know where the mess hall is, don't you?"

Goten scratched the back of his head and lied.  "Uhh.. yeah, sure!"

Pikkon nodded.  "Fine.  Then we'll start with the more tactile part of the training… the fighting style of the leech.  Even though leeches take over different people's bodies and sometimes have an altered mind, they always have a certain style about them that has been passed on by the ancients.  I know it thoroughly, and therefore I will be playing the leech in our spars."

That training doesn't sound that bad, Goten thought.  "So what's after that?"

Pikkon raised an eyeridge.  "Next, most of the year will be spent on ki-control, with a spar every few days to break it up.   You'll need to learn how to reign in and shield your own ki from leeching.  You cannot fight a leech if he sucks your power as soon as you power up.  Then we will go on to the last step."

"What's that?" Goten asked.

"This."  Pikkon pulled out the blade of the leech.

Goten reacted instantly.  "How did you get that?" he hissed.  "Last I saw it was embedded in my chest."

Pikkon regarded him calmly.  "The leech made a mistake.  This is how we identified him, and this is how you will destroy him.  It's the one thing that will break through his defenses… that is, if you master it."

Goten tried to calm his breathing, and was finally able to.  It was still hard to stare at the weapon that committed his murder.

Pikkon sensed his discomfort and put the knife away.  "We've wasted enough time already, Goten.  Time to spar."

Goten looked around, trying to find a sparring ground.  He found none.  "What, here?"

He barely finished the question before he was knocked from his feet.  _Yes, evidently here_, he thought as he powered up quickly.

*****

Jiten knew one thing: he loved pancakes.

He knew another thing: Hoja made them MUCH better than his mother ever could.

Jiten was shoveling the spongy gooey substance into his mouth at a fairly regular rate, occasionally washing the meal down with extra-pulpy orange juice.  Hoja had long finished his and was cleaning up the kitchen.  The boy noticed that Hoja did it mechanically, and even whistled, rather than the rants and nags his mother usually went into.

It was… nice.  No screaming.  No chaos.  Just nice and calm and peaceful… which Jiten wanted to abruptly end as soon as he was finished with his breakfast.

Hoja plopped down on the chair opposite the couch that Jiten was inhabiting.  "So… spar after breakfast?"

Jiten's head shot up.  The words seemed innocuous.  It was something that one fighter would say to another, and it was something that he'd heard his Saiyan family say on a fairly regular basis.  Just never to him.  They always said "train" with him.  There was an important difference, Jiten realized.  Training was nothing better than school with fighting.  Sparring was for equals.

"Yeah!" he said through a mouthful of pancake.

Hoja laughed.  "Finish that off and let's get started, then."

Jiten gobbled up the rest of his breakfast as Hoja casually walked outside.  He didn't want to keep Hoja waiting.  Not when Hoja already seemed like he considered Jiten old enough for responsibility and stuff.  Jiten desperately didn't want to lose that.

Jiten grinned at the good feeling he had all over.  He had woken up feeling good for the first time since he could remember.  The bed, though small, had been supremely comfortable, which usually would have made Jiten want to curl up in a smaller ball and stay there.  But this morning had been different.  He's woken up just a bit before Hoja and had been running around in the front yard when Hoja had called him for breakfast.  He'd come in chastened, thinking that his mother would have usually yelled at him for going outside without permission, but Hoja didn't think a thing about it.  In fact, he'd given Jiten a weird looked when he'd apologized.

That made Jiten relax even more.

Jiten grinned at his good fortune.  It was like a year of vacation from having his parents constantly nagging him.  A year to relax and enjoy his childhood.  Jita grinned.  He was about to walk out the door when he looked back at his dishes.  They were stacked haphazardly and threatening to drip syrup on Hoja's nice couch.  So, for the first time in his life, Jiten stacked his dishes and stacked them in the sink, without being told to.  He felt an odd sort of satisfaction in doing that.

*****

The leech looked in through the window, fairly shocked at the simple show of responsibility.  He'd expected a little more loyalty from the tyke, and a little less respectful to his parents and family.  He hadn't expected to see exhibiting more grown-up behavior.  _It's probably just the loyalty_, Hoja reasoned.  However, he wasn't so sure.

"Hoja?" he heard the boy's voice near the door, coming closer to him.  "Do you still want to spar?"

"Yes, Jiten," he called.  "I'm over here."

Jiten turned the corner and grinned, seemingly in relief.  _He didn't expect me to actually spar with him_, Hoja realized.  Grinning, and without warning, Hoja lunged at Jiten.  The spar began.

Hoja couldn't help but notice Jiten's flawless technique.  The boy was a prodigy with the best of trainers.  What he'd been telling Jiten the day before about his parents' technique was partially a load of bull.  If it hadn't been for his hold on Jiten and the slight ki drain, the Spider Masters would have probably overpowered him.  Both of them had strong and novel techniques, both of which had fused into Jiten's own personal fighting style, along with probably the best he'd seen from any of the other fighters.

And Jiten thought his own fighting was subpar.  Hoja could feel it within the boy through their link.  It was from never truly fighting an equal, and always being beaten by stronger and older opponents.  _Kid never really had a chance… at least until he's older…_

A particularly vicious blow knocked Hoja to the ground.  He wiped some blood from his chin and grinned at the little kid staring down at him with wide eyes.  The kid was just amazed that he could get a blow in.

_I can't just let him win_, Hoja reminded himself.  _But I have to build up his confidence a little.  Otherwise he'll be a weak minion to me, instead of a strong acolyte to carry on once I'm dead._

Hoja remembered his old master.  Of course, he remembered the entire line of leeches, having the same parasite-consciousness shape him through each generation.  But Hoja was not like other leeches.  He was the leech, of course, but he was still Redyei.

Redyei was the name of a little boy who had been long separated from his own kind.  He had lived in a rather primitive society that hadn't even learned to utilize indoor plumbing or electricity.  He'd been denied even the semblance of civilization when his village cast him out for chasing away the rain.  He'd wandered the moors, living on increasingly unsavory sustenance, until the leech had found him.

Or rather, he had found the leech.  The powerful figure was caught up a tree surrounded by a pack of wolvenbeasts.  There was an easy trick of chasing them away that included whistling and clapping hands, but an offworlder wouldn't have known that.  So it was that Redyei learned that there were worlds other than his own.  He'd soon attached himself to the leech and had gradually made the decision to be the leech's acolyte.

Looking back, Hoja-Redyei realized a lot of things.  The first was that his growth spurt had not caused the rain to go away, no matter what the town soothsayer said.  Another thing was that his master had probably used the same techniques that Hoja was using on Jiten.  

Another thing was how many times his need for revenge had been compounded.

The youth Redyei had always felt cheated out of a normal life, which made the novelty of putting his loyalty with a slightly unsavory stranger all the more sweet.  It was to get back at those superstitious prudes.

And then there was the battle.

Hoja still remembered it with pain, even after thousands of years.  Redyei and his master had been roasting a particularly large planet, sucking plenty of power, when the leech-slayer had shown up.  He'd been green, with flowing white clothes and a turban.  Redyei had laughed at the outright ridiculous nature of the fighter… until the green man went after him.  Not his master – him.

Redyei knew what was happening.  His master had actually warned him, something that Hoja now realized was usually never done, since it might make an acolyte hesitate in battle.  Redyei was going to face him, however, but his master had knocked him back and told him mentally to remain hidden.  Redyei almost scoffed at the order, but his loyalty had been too great.  He would have done whatever his master had told him.  He couldn't really imagine doing otherwise.

Redyei had managed to watch some of the fight on the few times that it came within his view.  He knew that the fight was going a bit badly for his master, since he hadn't been able to get much power from the last few planets, and most was expended by the travel to the next planet.  Redyei had tried desperately to send some of his own power through the link, but his master kept him closed off.  His master had actually protected him.  And that's what got him killed.

The second his master was dead, Redyei became the leech.  The spirit, power, and persona of the leech grafted itself on to him.  But he was still Redyei.  He was the leech and Redyei all at once, and the spirit of the leech infused him with knowledge and wisdom passed down from the time before kais – the time before order – the time before time, into the time of the basic primal forces of the universe.  

But that didn't seem to matter as much as revenge.  He wanted to avenge the death of his master and his own.  He burst from his hiding place, no longer afraid…

… and saw that the leech-slayer was already dead.

Already dead.  The leech and the slayer had dealt their fatal blows simultaneously.  Redyei could almost remember it, as if through a fog.  Later on he began to realize that his master's memories were the farthest from him.  It was the earlier lives of leeches that gave him strength.

Redyei had left that planet, still consumed with rage and no outlet to pour himself.  All he had with him was the power and title of the leech and the blade he had claimed from his master's still-warm body.  And a vague idea to avenge his master by stealing all the power in the universe and doing as much damage as possible.

That turned into a more difficult task than he'd planned.  The universe was going through a dark time of little power.  It was a long time before such races as the changelings, ice-jins, and Saiyans.  Redyei hadn't realized, but this lack of power was through the efforts of a certain Majin Buu.  He just knew that there was barely a planet with intelligent and strong life to be found.

He met other leeches, and found himself to be unique among them.  For one, he was relatively new so he was not entirely dependent on the energy of others.  He could still survive a little longer than the others with the dark age, or the drought, as others called it.  For another, the other were truly leeches.  They did not retain anything from each persona.  The minds had been erased, the soul had been disposed of, and the body had become a shell for the ancient personas.  As such, he considered himself superior from the shells.

He also saw what the lack of power was doing to them.  They didn't even have the energy to drain energy.  They were literally starving to death.  Redyei vowed that that would not happen to him.

But Redyei had patience.  He had a lifetime of patience.  He had more than a lifetime of patience.  He just didn't have the means yet.  Until he'd found this dimension, where he could just wait until there were plenty of high-powered idiots to drain.  The dimension kept him healthy and with power.  It was nurturing, though he still couldn't wait to get out of there.  He had no more and no less power than millions of years earlier.  It was maddening.

It was amazing he'd found Earth on the first go.

Hoja smiled at the kid who was currently circling through the air with him, trying to find the advantage.  He was almost sorry that he had to use the kid.  He was sorry that he wouldn't be able to protect Jiten like his own master had protected him.

But he wouldn't repeat his master's mistakes.  An acolyte was a weapon, no matter what attachments he felt to the boy.  He had to form the relationship, but stay distant.

He would have his revenge.

"Have you had enough?" Jiten gasped out, grinning, trying to appear less tired than he really was.

Hoja grinned at the boy's pride, tenacity, and all-around excitement for life.  "We'll take an hour or two, and then get right back at it.  Race you to the pond!"

Hoja laughed as the boy raced behind him, nearly diving on top of him.  Hoja had only paused long enough to take off some of his weapons and heavier armor.  He knew, as he was watching the laughing boy, that he would have a hard time keeping his promise.

*****

Chichi approached her husband cautiously from behind, easily handling a heavily-laden picnic basket.  It was a disgustingly cheerful day, with sun and balmy temperatures and birds and chipmunks.  It was one of those days in summer where the Earth had just decided to chill off and make it spring.  Chichi knew that the next day would be sweltering, so she was determined to enjoy the brief spell of cooler weather.

_If only we could have a brief spell of happiness_, Chichi thought longingly.

Goku had been sitting there beside the stream for days, never bothering to move.  It broke her heart, but there was little she could do.  She'd tried everything from food to cajoling to various forms of temptation to even a few of her old temper tantrums.  Nothing would break Goku out of his almost stupor, not even fighting.  Practically everyone had been by to ask Goku if he wanted to train or spar or whatever.  Even Vegeta, much as it surprised her that he would go out of his way for Goku's emotional well-being.  But nothing had worked, and Vegeta had ended up reverting back to cursing Goku and his worthlessness.  Chichi had felt the disturbing urge to join in with him.

"Goku," she said cheerfully, spreading a blanket beside him and sitting on the edge, "I thought we'd have a picnic lunch."

Goku failed to respond.  Chichi's ready smile faltered, but she forced it back up.

"Since you haven't shown any interest in going inside, and today is so nice for a change, eating outside with you sounded so good.  And I cooked your favorite: one of everything."  Chichi laughed high and clear, battling her husband's depression as well as her own with a fiercely defiant cheerfulness as powerful as any of her angry rants in the past.

Chichi almost thought she saw a flash in Goku's dead eyes, but it passed too quickly to actually amount to anything.  Chichi dug her nails into her dress in frustration.

"You know, if you keep not talking," Chichi said in a slightly strangled voice, "you're going to end up to where you'll never talk at all.  That's what my grandmother always told me when I'd give everyone the silent treatment."

"What should I say, Chichi?" Goku asked dully.

Chichi hadn't been expecting a response and Goku's voice almost startled her.  She began pulling things out of the basket and setting them out.  Goku tried not to look interested, but Chichi knew that he was probably starving to death.

"Don't talk right now," she said.  "Just eat."

For some reason, Goku seemed to look even more defeated when he finally brought himself to eat.  He ate just as much as he usually did, only it still wasn't the same, Chichi noted.  She had always known him to eat with gusto, and now he was merely mechanically chewing and swallowing, seeming to barely even notice the flavor of anything.  It scared Chichi even worse than when he was just sitting there.

Too soon the meal was done, but Chichi didn't bother clearing the plates away.  She was still focusing on Goku, trying to think of a way to get him to snap out of this horrible depression.

"Gohan called earlier and asked if you wanted to spar," Chichi said in the blandest normal voice she could find.  "He's been working with various people but he wanted a challenge today.  I told him that you probably didn't want to."

Chichi paused, hoping for any sort of reaction.  She knew that Goku hated it when Chichi answered for him, especially when it came to training.  But she was disappointed.  He merely nodded.

"He's been sparring a little with Pan," Chichi tried another tactic.  "Not very much though.  She's been busy with the other Spider students.  I think the oldest class is planning to go off looking for the dragonballs.  They figured everyone else needed time to train, and it would give them additional training."  Chichi smiled.  "You know how dragonball hunts are."

Goku merely looked away.

"DARN IT, Goku, listen to me!!" Chichi bellowed, having reached the end of her patience.  Realizing that violence is sometimes the only way to get a Saiyan's attention, Chichi grabbed Goku by the collar of his gi and forced him to look at her.  To her satisfaction, Goku's eyes were as wide as the empty plates at their feet.

"I don't ask for much," Chichi said, slightly calmer.  "I just want to know what's wrong with you so I can help, because being around you is so depressing that I almost can't stand it.  I'm not going to stand for it, either.  You're going to tell me what's wrong right now, or I'm going to give you the beating of your life.  And believe me, in your current state, I could."

It was a lie and both of them knew it, but it still caught Goku's attention.  Goku pulled away from Chichi's grasp easily, but still watched her warily.  Chichi held her breath, waiting for what Goku would do next.

"Do you think I'm a bad father?" Goku asked abruptly.

Whatever Chichi was expecting, she certainly wasn't expecting that.  "What do you mean by that, Goku?  Who ever said you were a bad father?"

Goku actually laughed at that one, giving her an incredulous look.  "Oh, come on, Chichi.  This from you?  You wrote the book on how I'm a bad father."

Chichi automatically put her defenses up, but she did have a sense of regret left for all the things she'd said against Goku, especially to Goten when he was just a small child.  She regretted those words almost every day.

"I won't deny it, Goku," Chichi said calmly.  "I've said things in the past that I shouldn't have said.  I was just so lonely and afraid after you died… both times."

Tears started to brim and spill out of Chichi's eyes, and Goku looked away, embarrassed.

"But the second time was the worst," Chichi continued.  "Everyone seems to have forgotten now that no one thought then you'd be coming back.  I was a widow and a single parent to two, one a newborn who would never know his father.  Gohan spent his days in guilt and remorse over your death and something he'd done wrong in the fight against that monster.  I tried to get him to go to school earlier, but he couldn't relate to any of the other children.  Even in high school he was rather strange.  The only thing he could do with himself is play superhero."

Goku had listened gravely to all of the bad things that had happened to his family in those seven years of his death.  "Chichi, I—"

Chichi put a hand over his mouth.  "No, Goku.  Don't apologize.  It's not like you, and that wasn't my point.  My point is," Chichi took a breath, "that things got better when you came back to life.  Sure, there was all the paperwork to prove that you were alive, and there was the whole thing where we had to get remarried, but other than that, we were happier.  And, yes, that includes Goten.  I did wrong to Goten, not you."

Goku looked at her skeptically, but didn't voice his doubts.

"Look," Chichi said, finally realizing what was probably bothering Goku, "I can imagine how Goten reacted when Jita stayed in Hell and you couldn't even give him an explanation.  He'd just been killed, he'd lost his wife forever, and his son was kidnapped.  He was hurting, he wanted to lash out, and you were the closest and easiest target… as well as the most familiar.  Whatever he said, he didn't mean it."

Goku was a little surprised that Chichi could guess at part of his pain, but he still knew that she was partly lying to pull him out of his pain.  He knew he hurt others, and his family in particular.  He looked at Chichi, not even seeing the older woman in front of his eyes.  All he saw was the young woman sitting on their bed, crying and trying to understand why he had stayed away so long for no good reason.  That image haunted him continually.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Chichi… I really do.  But it's no use.  I know what I've done over the years, and Goten has never been happy with me."  He got up swiftly and looked down into her eyes.  "I've caused more pain than you can possibly realize."

After that he could no longer stand to be around her scared/pitying eyes.  In a split second he picked a direction and took off.

Chichi stared after him until the tears swimming in her eyes made her vision too blurry to see.  She knew that Goku hadn't told her everything, if anything, but there was nothing she could do about it.  Trying to calm herself, Chichi gathered the dishes and took them inside.

*****

Reviewer thanks:

Silver Warrior:  You know, you're always my first review, ever since you started reading.  I really appreciate that, man.  Every time I upload I always check my e-mail for reviews every hour.  I'm pathetic, really.  As for the day back, well…. You'll see.

Crazed fanatic anime fan:  I truly enjoyed your diligence in review all those chapters.  I hope that you've gotten up to chapter 40 by now.  I'm always excited by a new reader.

Dark Wolf:  Here's your update, ya big nag!  Anyway, I glad that I can always surprise you.

Ssj chika:  You'll find out soon enough.  Ha-ha.

Mpvssj5:  Stick with it, bro.  You'll get through my story, and maybe even get to gripe about me not updating sometime.

Howler:  Hi, sweetie!  I always like it when you leave a review.  Makes me have a happy face.  : )  See?  Ha-ha.

Tim333:  I will certainly not fault you for taking a while to get to reading a chapter or three.  You certainly gave profuse praise for chapters 38 and 39.  I'm glad someone appreciates my playing around with the themes of the series, especially the "pure of heart" thing that drives me up the wall.  And then we get to chapter 40.  I am using your perspective on the leech.  I always had in mind that the leech was just going to be a two-dimensional villain – perhaps creepy, but certainly not with layers.  You've made me realize that villains are characters too, and I'm working on him, as you've seen in this chapter.  I knew you'd appreciate the appearance by Krillen and 18.  I've slowly taken more of a liking to them, so it was only a matter of time when I would write them.

            I really thought about what you said about the clichéd way I got Jita out of Hell, and I could say that you're right.  I wanted an expedient way to keep Jita a part of the story.  But I'm going to do the more interesting thing.  I'm going to argue on my behalf.  I talked about playing with the themes of Dragonball Z earlier.  That's kind of what I'm going for.  If you think about it, superheroes lead very absurdist lives, especially our friends in DBZ.  You have to wonder – after all these contrived plot devices, how do the characters react?  Is everything right with the world?  Or does it affect them psychologically?  Think about when Goku came back to life, or when anyone comes back to life.  What would be the psychological effects?  I think you capture that beautifully in your Krillen story.  I guess that's what I'm trying to go for.  I'm keeping some of the frame of a trite superhero action/adventure story, but putting in a thread of angst and absurdism to go along with it.  There.  Is that enough self-justifying crap for you?  Ha-ha.  No, really, it's for the reader's interpretation, and I appreciate you pointing out weak points in the story.  I really felt the same way, but I could find no way around it.  Oh well.

Tonifranz:  I am truly sorry for not yet doing what I promised.  Around the weekend I said I would be sending you those beta'd chapters, my computer went up in smoke.  I didn't really lose anything, and it was actually just a part that needed to be replaced, but it meant a week without my computer until the part came in.  By that time, I had forgotten.  I've been working on it recently, and I'm hoping by next weekend to send you all the chapters of your first story.  Then I'll catch up on your second story.  Again, please forgive me.


	42. Searching

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes: Well, I promised this out as soon as I could. I had it mostly written.  If there are any plot discrepancies, its because I'm a bad writer who doesn't edit her work.

**Chapter 41: Searching**

Vegeta was completely exhausted, and had to force himself to pull on his black pants and red sleeveless shirt.  He'd developed a liking for that style of outfit.  It used to be that he couldn't stand to wear civvies.  He was ex-military and always would be.  As such, it had taken him decades to get used to not wearing a uniform.  

However, he thought with a smirk, the outfit was attractive.  It definitely made him look younger.  Not that he looked old at all.  All the humans around him aged at such accelerated rates it was almost scary.

Pulling on his black gloves, Vegeta walked outside the spaceship that had served as his gravity room for years.  It was the end of autumn and bitter cold, so he reached just inside the door for his jacket.  Even though he didn't particularly like the cold, Vegeta appreciated the fact that the day wouldn't turn out so disgustingly cheerful.  Most of the animals stayed in whatever hole they dug or flew to another part of the world.  _Why don't those idiot birds just stay there?_ Vegeta couldn't help but ask.

Suddenly he stiffened, sensing the tension in the air.  He could feel someone's eyes on him, and there was a definite sense of being stalked.  Vegeta forced himself to relax, not wanting to alert his stalker that he knew someone was watching.  He reached out with his senses.  Five someones were surrounding him, all of varying degrees of slightly above-average power.

Vegeta dodged and felt a rush of movement go past him.  He dodged a few more swishes of air and got in a kick.  He tried to pull back to see who was attacking, but they were all staying close and keeping out of sight with movement at the same time.  Finally he caught a fist and held it.

"Pan?" Vegeta said incredulously.  "What is this?"

All she had time to do was smirk before twisting out of his grip.  Vegeta found himself pushed to the ground from behind by three good-sized ki blasts.  He smirked himself when he realized who the five were.  Despite his exhaustion from training, Vegeta was able to ascend to Super Saiyan and call forth enough power.  In less than five seconds, he'd knocked all five of the advanced Spider students to the ground.

They all groaned when they got up, but they were still grinning.  They'd managed to fare that long with Vegeta.  Their training was paying off.

"Thought you could sneak up on me," Vegeta laughed.  "Well, I guess you did as well as could be expected… from humans."

Krianan rubbed her elbow where she'd hit the ground the hardest.  "We were able to keep you confused for a bit at least."

Vegeta snorted.  "If I hadn't been training for two days straight without rest then you wouldn't have.  Don't get cocky yet."

He noticed the five's slightly downcast faces.  Cursing himself for getting soft, he amended, "However, you did work well as a team, and you set up a good strategy for the situation.  If you hadn't pulled back a little you might have had a better chance of taking me."

This restored their good humor.

Pecon stepped forward.  "Actually, Vegeta-san, we didn't come here to attack you… or just to attack you.  We came to ask if the dragonballs had been collected."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow.  "Not that I know of.  The woman was planning on going, but she's been stuck in her lab for weeks.  Why?"

Darjili shifted her feet a little.  She was in blue-haired mode.  "Well, we… we wanted to do it."

Vegeta crossed his arms, slightly amused.  "You wish to take time out of your training to gather the dragonballs?"

Pan grinned.  "Well, I mean, Grandpa got a lot of his training from gathering the dragonballs, so it could be good for our training."  With anyone else, citing Goku's example would have been the trump card.  Of course, she should have realized that this was Vegeta.

Vegeta rolled his eyes.  "Waste your time on collecting the relics if you want.  But none of the dragonballs are gathered at all.  Just who's going to watch the Spider dojo while you're gone?"

This seemed to agitate the lot of them.  "Spider dojo's already closed up," Danton spoke up.

Darjili crossed her arms, having changed to her blonde form without anyone noticing.  "Seems that the government doesn't recognize us as the owners of the Spider dojo.  We can keep living in the house and training in the dojo, but we can't teach any students."

So that was it, Vegeta realized.  They were restless.  Well, he didn't blame them any.  Of course, if the government had tried to meddle with him, then he'd just tell them to shove off and maybe help them carry out his request.  But, of course, he was a special case.

Noting their discomfiture, he changed the subject.  "The crazy woman should have the dragon radar."  In the background they heard a crash followed by some screaming curses.  "Just follow that unearthly sound," he ended with a smirk.

The five nodded nervously and scuttled into the complex, leaving the Saiyan behind.  It didn't take them long at all to find Bulma's lab.  Krianan knocked tentatively.  They may have felt free to attack Vegeta, but Bulma was the real scary one, and they had to step lightly with her.

The cursing broke off into a low grumble.  "Come in," the lady genius barked.

Holding their collective breath, they opened the door.

*****

The five flew from the frigid climes into warmer weather.  They had spent a little time racing each other, but that had ended as they got closer to their target.

Pan tapped the button on the radar.  She'd insisted on controlling it, feeling she had some sort of birthright to it.  She turned a little to the west, and everyone adjusted accordingly.

"This was such a great idea," Krianan yelled over the wind, which was pretty fierce this close to the coast.

"I don't know," Pecon said thoughtfully.  "Maybe we should have split up and gotten it done sooner."

"We only have one radar, baka," Darjili retorted.  "It wouldn't have worked."

"Besides, don't you remember what Vegeta-san said?" Danton joined in, hoping to avert yet another argument between Pecon and Darjili.  "We work well as a team."

"He was probably just commenting on how pathetic humans need to work together to get anything done.  It wasn't a compliment," Darjili laughed.  The laugh caught on to the others.

"These dragonballs won't take all that long to find anyway," Pan shouted back.  "I heard it took Grandpa and Bulma-san less than a month to find all the dragonballs on the first hunt, and we're much stronger than Grandpa was."

"Bulma-san and Satan-san searched for the dragonballs together?" Krianan asked in an airhead moment.

"Of course not!" Pan yelled back, clearly disturbed at the idea.  "I _do_ have more than one grandpa.  This was Grandpa Goku, not Grandpa Satan."

"Where's he been, anyway?" Pecon asked absently.  "I haven't seen Goku-san in a really long time.  In fact, since…"

"Yeah," Pan answered grimly.  "Since the tournament."  Only those words were needed.  The words "the tournament" had become synonymous with the death of their teachers and the general falling apart of their worlds.  It was too painful to actually mention the deaths.  So they just said "the tournament."

"I think we're here!" Pan shouted, swiftly bringing everyone's minds back to the present.  This was why they were gathering the dragonballs anyway.  So that they could wish Goten back to life.

The five stopped above a rather large rocky beach that was surrounded by rocks and cliffs.  A few turtles were idly crawling amongst the rocks.

"Hey, Pan," Pecon said quietly.  "What does the dragonball look like again?"

"Well," she said lamely, "it's orange, about the size of a baseball, and it has some stars inside.

The five looked down in horror at the beach filled with orange, baseball-sized rocks.

"Well," Danton swallowed.  "I guess we better get started."

*****

Darjili stretched her aching back to the limit before delving into the backpack for some noodles and spices to go with the fish that was now roasting over the fire.  The boys had caught the fish just the way Goten had taught them before: strip down and dive for it yourself.  Darjili had laughed at the strangeness of this style of fishing, but it was certainly quicker and made more sense than using poles.  And it was definitely pure Goten.

It was sunset, and the orange rock beach glowed eerily in the orange sunset and the orange fire.  Orange.  Darjili set her jaw and tried to concentrate on what she was doing.  Everything reminded her of either Jita or Goten.  Sometimes she wondered if she was going crazy, but then Pecon or someone else would show how hard it was.  It wasn't just Darjili.

Pan walked up to her, happily tossing the two-star dragonball in her hand.  "And to think," she started in, not even bothering to begin a conversation, "I was the one who found it.  I'll probably be the one who finds them all."

Darjili arched an eyebrow wryly.  "Really.  And wasn't it Danton that pointed out that you were holding the dragon radar the wrong way right from the beginning?"

Pan glared.  "Yeah, well, I found it, didn't I?"

The two stared at each other, and then Pan dropped all pretexts.  "Can't we just try to wish Jita-sensei back to life?"

Darjili sighed, willing her face to stone.  "You know what they said.  Fate of the universe and all.  Remember?"

"Screw the universe," Danton walked into the conversation.  Then he smiled.  "Isn't that just fun to say?  Screw the universe."  Then he looked over at Pecon.  "Oh, yeah.  Sorry, man.  Didn't mean to offend your 'universe in balance' 'greater good' monk philosophy."

The ex-monk shook his head and smiled.  "If it could get Jita back, I'd say go for it."

Krianan laughed sharply.  "We've corrupted you, Pecon!"

The five laughed nervously for the rest of the time that they got supper together.  They fell into silence while eating.  Suddenly nothing really seemed funny anymore.

Darjili closed her eyes, not ready to go to sleep and yet not really willing to talk with anyone.  She had too much on her mind to go to sleep.

This was strange though.  Darjili was not much of a thinker.  She'd never gotten used to focusing on one thing for very long since, odds were, she'd just change forms and personalities before she could actually form an opinion on anything.  Her parents hadn't known what to do about her, since Lunch had had the same problem all her life without ever overcoming it.  It wasn't until she came under the tutelage of Jita that she'd actually found the secret to stabilizing herself.

Darjili laughed to herself.  All that time she and her parents had thought that the only way to help her was to suppress the "bad" side of her and only let the calm, tractable side exist.  That was the side that was easier to deal with, after all.  This, of course, only made the condition worse.  People weren't built to be all nice or all mean.  If there was anything that Jita had known about, it was ambiguity.  Jita had taught her to nurture both sides of her personality.  Really, Darjili hadn't been any nicer or meaner than anyone else.  Her two sides had just been separated by some disorder that had baffled any psychiatrist she'd gone to.  Jita had figured that the disorder probably had something magical about it.

Of course, it didn't really matter to Darjili.  She'd overcome it.  Sure, she was still changing bodies, but her personality tended to slightly shift, though not so much as to completely forget everything.  It was more like mood swings than anything else.  Jita had helped her become whole again.

Darjili squeezed her eyes tighter.  She had to stop thinking about Jita.  Jita was gone, and would never be coming back, and that's what made it so extremely painful.  Another mother gone.

Darjili had spent practically her whole life in the desert with her parents and Chaotzu, who was clearly of no relation but held for her the affectionate term of Uncle.  Life had always seemed rather unstable.  While the environment never changed, Lunch was a constant factor.  Darjili remembered having to check the locks on the gun cabinets and once cajoling her mother out of a supply store during changes.  She remembered working to make sure that the house was dust and allergen-free.  And that was only when she was seven or eight.  Tien or Chaotzu would always try to be there when Lunch turned violent, but it was literally a full-time job.  Sometimes one or both of them would have to be away.  But Darjili had never been scared.  It was a way of life for her.  She knew no different.

Around puberty, Darjili's personalities had started separating.  It was subtle at first, but quickly got more dramatic.  First the sneeze.  Then the hair and eyes.  Tien and Lunch – both Lunches – had been horrified to watch their baby girl showing signs of the same illness that plagued Lunch.  Tien began a renewed effort in a long-abandoned quest to find the cure for the personality disorder.  Darjili only had flashes of memory of that time.  Mostly it was doctor after doctor, but she also remembered a huge green dragon in a black sky and a short green guy with antennae.  Back then she hadn't really understood any of it, and had feared that her illness had gone to hallucinations.  But now she knew exactly what Tien had been doing.  The dragonballs… Dende… all logical steps.  But they hadn't worked.  The brain was too complicated for a magical cure.

Darjili really hadn't known about anything about dragonballs or any of the stronger warriors.  Not that Tien and Chaotzu were hiding it.  It just never came up.  None of the other warriors had ever been actual friends with Tien.  They fought together – a lot – from what Darjili had heard since, but private times when there wasn't a fight going on was a whole other matter.  Probably none of those friends even knew of her existence until she joined the Spider dojo.

At the Spider dojo she'd found some sort of stability, but she'd also gotten into a weirder than ever life.  She'd heard the truth about who killed Cell and that a creature named Buu had destroyed the world and a bunch of live wires who could destroy the world with a sneeze were living happily about the globe.

Actually, it made the world make sense.

"Hey, Darjili."

Darjili rolled over.  "What is it, Pecon?" she responded sleepily.  Maybe she was more tired than she realized.

"You can't sleep either?" he asked.

Darjili rolled her eyes.  "Nope.  I'm talking in my sleep.  Please tell me in the morning if I say anything embarrassing."

Pecon grinned.  "How could I tell that apart from how you always speak?"

Darjili shot a glare at him, and promised herself that she'd beat him into the ground the next time they sparred.

Pecon quickly changed the subject.  "What do you think the other students are doing?"

Darjili shook her head.  "I don't know.  Probably more frustrated than we are.  At least we're doing something."

Pecon snorted.  "Yeah.  Something that anyone with a dragon radar and a lot of time on their hands could do.  Oh, yeah, and something one of the Saiyans could do in a day.  It's not like we're doing anything special."

Darjili closed her eyes, agreeing and yet not wanting to agree.  "We're collecting the things that will bring Goten-sensei back to life."

"So he can get here in a year and make everything better," Pecon retorted.  "And if he doesn't, then one of the other Saiyans will do it."

Darjili sat up.  "What are you getting at, Pecon?"

Pecon sighed, putting his head in his hands.  Despite the serious nature of the moment, Darjili couldn't help but notice how the orange flames reflected off Pecon's bald shiny head.

"I've trained my whole life," Pecon finally stated.  "I was the strongest at Orinji temple, and I'm one of the strongest of our class.  I've learned so much.  I've tried to hard.  And I actually thought I was getting somewhere."

Darjili put a hand on Pecon's shoulder.  "You are."

"Then why do I feel so useless?" Pecon interrupted.  "You feel it too.  I mean, we're humans.  We don't get stronger after near-death experiences.  We've never even had a near-death experience.  But we'll never be able to keep up with the Saiyans.  None of the other humans have.  I talked to Krillen a few days ago.  I pretty much gathered from him that, as humans, we'll always be weaker and there's nothing we can do about it."

Darjili frowned.  All that he said spoke directly to the core of her being.

"You know what's going to happen when the leech comes, don't you?" Pecon continued.  "There's going to be a huge fight.  We'll wish Goten back to life.  Everyone will get together for the fight, but only the Saiyans will actually do the fighting.  And even then it may only be Goten, Goku, and Vegeta.  Trunks and Gohan may make an attempt, but they'll just be a stall.  There may be a transformation, a death that can be easily remedied with the dragonballs, Jiten will probably be rescued, and the rest of the world may or may not remember or care about any of it.  And you know where we'll be?  On the sidelines, along with the rest of the humans.  Oh yeah.  Maybe we'll get to give out senzu beans.  Fun!"

Darjili waited a minute to see if he was finished.  "Would you rather be killed or generally kicked around?"

Pecon glared at her.  "I'd rather have some worth.  I'd rather know that my presence actually meant something."

Darjili's brow furrowed as she considered.  "You got this all from Krillen?"

Pecon looked away.  "Well, I got all the facts from Krillen-san.  He didn't seem to have that much of a problem with it, though.  It just disturbed me greatly."

Darjili was remembering back to a similar talk she'd had recently with her father.  "Pecon, do you remember what they told us about the whole Cell thing?"

Pecon laughed sharply.  "Do I ever.  Where do you think I'm getting this from?  Goku and Gohan did all the work in the Cell Games, with the alternates being that future Trunks, Vegeta, and maybe Piccolo.  The humans were still useless."

Darjili shook her head.  "No, not the Cell Games.  Cell had been terrorizing everyone days before, and people had been fighting him all that time.  I'm talking about when Imperfect Cell was trying to absorb 18."

Pecon cocked his head quizzically.  "Well, he did, didn't he?  I mean, what's important about that time?"

"Yeah, but…"  Darjili took a minute to collect her thoughts.  "OK, from what I remember, 17 was already absorbed, Piccolo had been knocked out, and that other android and 18 were hiding out.  The Saiyans were too busy with the Time Chamber to do anything, and Cell was about to be perfected."

Pecon still couldn't find the point.  "Well, yeah…"

"That's when my dad showed up," Darjili continued, the excitement mounting in her voice as she told the now-familiar story from so long ago.  "He didn't stand a chance against Cell, but he didn't care.  All he cared about was keeping Cell from achieving his perfect form.  So he started hitting him with Tri-beam after Tri-beam, almost killing himself in the process.  Everyone thought he was an idiot for doing it, but he sure wasn't standing on the sidelines that time."

Pecon shook his head.  "But, I mean, no offense, but he _was_ an idiot for doing it.  His efforts didn't matter in the long-run.  Cell still absorbed 18.  He just delayed it for a little while."

"But at least he tried," Darjili said, suddenly passionate about the whole thing.  "He didn't just let Cell kill him and everyone else.  He did what he knew he was capable of doing, and didn't let anything deter him.  He kept Cell in that hole as long as he could.  He did more than I heard the stronger Vegeta or future Trunks ever did against Cell.  Call him a useless human all you like, but at the time he was the most admirable of the lot."

The two were quiet for a good long time.  The only sound was the incessant waves and the occasional snap from the slowly dying fire.  Pecon at last raised his head.  "I wish I could see it your way, Darjili."

Darjili watched as Pecon walked over to his sleeping bag.  "I wish I could too."

*****

The five trudged through East Capital City, both tired and hungry.  They'd stopped flying a few miles from the city in order to not attract attention.  Pecon wondered why they even bothered.  It wasn't like flying people even made the news anymore.  

Though it seemed that bald people did make the news, he noted with some irritation.  People just seemed dead set on staring at his shiny bald head and incense burns.  It was as if they'd never seen a monk before.

Pecon looked down at his clothes, a wry grin forming on his face.  Alright, so perhaps they'd never seen a monk dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, so maybe he was a bit of an oddity.  Plus, monks tended to stay away from large cities, opting for the more traditional life.

"Darn it!" Pan ranted in frustration.  "It keeps moving!"  She hit the edge of the dragon radar, as if she could make the dragonball sit still by doing that.

"Maybe it's in a car," Danton commented absently.

"Wow, Danton," Krianan popped in.  "Did you think of that all by yourself?"

Danton grinned at her.  "Well, if I let you do all me thinking for me, I'd have… uh…"  He frowned.  "…done something… without thinking… yeah."

"Nice, Danton," Darjili laughed.  "Apparently someone needs to do your thinking for you."

"Hey, lay off," Danton complained.  "I'm… hungry.  I can't think when I'm hungry."

Krianan snorted.  "It's not as if you're a Saiyan.  Have a little discipline."

Pan looked up from the radar and scowled.  "Hey, what was that supposed to mean?"

Krianan sweatdropped.  "Uh…"

Darjili was in her blonde mode.  "It means that Saiyans eat a lot, and complain when they're hungry.  Why?  Are you going to dispute that?"

Pan's stomach growled.  She glared and looked away without further comment.

"So…" Danton began.  "Food?"

Pecon looked at his watch, realizing the question was probably directed at him.  Unwillingly he and Darjili were usually at the head of the group.  

"Tell ya what," Pecon said casually.  "If we don't find the dragonball in an hour, we eat.  But we need to find that dragonball first."

"Whoever heard of finding a dragonball in a city anyway," Pan complained.  "It's not like the wilderness where you can go straight to it.  Every time I get us on course, the street direction changes."

Danton groaned.  "Can't we just fly, for now?"

Darjili shook her head emphatically.  "No good.  Flying people in cities have never meant good.  It'll cause a panic."

Danton laughed.  "Can we cause a panic in an hour?"

Krianan smirked at him.  "With the way you eat, you couldn't help but cause a panic."

Danton rolled his eyes.  "I think you're talking about a certain Saiyan…"

Pan whirled around on a heel, her face red.  "OK!  I get it!  I'm a Saiyan, so I eat!  Isn't that funny?!  It's frickin' hilarious!  Gets better every time!"

The five stopped, oblivious to the stares they were drawing.  Danton took a step back, surprised.

"What the heck is your problem?" Krianan surprisingly came to Danton's defense.

Pan crossed her arms confrontationally.  "I just don't like my… difference… being pointed out at every opportunity.  I wish you'd get a new thing."

"Why are you so upset about that… difference?" Danton advanced.  "It's not like you suffer from it.  You're stronger than all of us."

"OK, you don't know what it's like, Danton," Pan said.  "You're normal."

Danton braced to let loose another verbal barrage, but Krianan got there first.  "Hey, you may have personal problems, but that's no reason to take it out on Danton."

Danton glowered at Krianan.  "Hey, I was handling it.  Don't come to my rescue."

Krianan raised an eyebrow at Danton.  "I was just trying to help you out.  I didn't have to."

"No, you didn't," he countered.

Darjili looked wide-eyed to the three glaring warriors.  "Hey… Pan… where's the dragonball now?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

Danton looked away from Krianan.  "Why ask her?  It's not like she can actually work the thing."

Darjili backed away as the three got in a shouting match.  She sat by Pecon on a bench, who was ignoring the entire thing.  He was counting out money to see where they could afford to eat for lunch.  People had stopped even noticing the three teenagers fighting.

"OK," Pecon said, carefully putting the money back in his billfold.  "We pretty much figured out that four of the dragonballs are hidden away from the city, so we only have to buy this meal and one more.  Looks like we have more than plenty for that and for any emergencies.  We can eat at someplace semi-nice today, so we can have a nice meal in us before resorting to fish and game again."

Darjili had been staring at him the entire time, a confused expression on her face.  "Uh… Pecon?"  She waved a hand in front of his face as he was looking through a business directory.

"What is it, Darjili?" Pecon asked tiredly.  "Is it about them arguing?  What do you want me to do about it?"

Darjili shifted.  "Well… can't you stop it?"

Pecon deftly caught the radar that had been sent sailing through the air when it was apparently slapped out of Pan's hands.  "Look, this is either extremely serious or just blowing off steam.  If it's blowing off steam, then it's not worth being dragged into the argument.  If it's something that's serious and will split up the group?  Well…" he paused, considering.  "It's still not worth it."

Darjili crossed her arms, unmoved.  "Cynic."

Pecon smiled at that.  "Well, why don't you stop it, then?"

Darjili went on the defensive.  "I tried."

Pecon's smile turned into a smirk.  "Yeah, I saw that.  Great job, by the way.  Very effective.  Put them right in their place."

Darjili raised an eyebrow.  "Well, you do it if you think you can do it better."

Pecon shook his head.  "Darjili, how is it _our_ responsibility?  Since when did we become the leaders of the group?  I mean, we're all pretty much the same age.  Pan is stronger.  Krianan's more take-charge.  So is Danton, for that matter."

Darjili frowned.  "Kami, I don't know.  I guess it's 'cause we're live-ins.  And we substituted for classes and everything.  We've got the closest ties."

Pecon laughed.  "No we don't.  Not compared to Pan.  We live with Goten and Jita.  She's _related_ to them.  She's spent her entire life around them."

"Well, if you're going with blood ties to the group, I've got my dad."

"Yeah, and I've got a hero worship of Krillen," Pecon retorted.  "But no one knew about us until a few years ago."

Darjili slouched.  "Well..." she began. "Can you imagine Pan leading the group?" she finally said.  "I mean, really.  And Danton and Krianan are both too arrogant.  They don't even like leading, anyway.  So we're stuck with it."

"All right!" Pan's voice cut through everything.  "That's it!"

A tossed jacket was the only warning they got when Pan suddenly attacked Danton in the street.

Pecon sighed.  "Here, hold this." He handed the radar to Darjili and got up.

Pan and Danton were already circling each other as much as patch of grass would allow.  Pecon rolled his eyes.  _What are they thinking?_  On the same note he realized, _they're_ _not_.

In a tone that echoed Jita's harsh voice, Pecon snapped out, "That's enough!"

Krianan took shocked notice, but Pan and Danton were already lunging for each other.  Pecon bit back a curse and phased in between the two, knocking both to the ground with such force that Danton slid along the sidewalk and scraped his arms up.  Pan went to her knees and quickly regained her balance.  Pecon's arm stung from Pan's hit.

Pecon glared at the lot of them, and they suddenly got quiet, ashamed.  Danton avoided his eyes by brushing the gravel from his scrapes.  Pan and Krianan merely looked away petulantly.

"Is this what Jita and Goten would want?" Pecon said in a calm voice.  "We haven't even gotten two dragonballs, the things that are supposed to bring Goten back to life, and suddenly we're fighting?  Not only that, but in the middle of a busy city?"  He gestured vaguely to the people walking around them.  "What's wrong with you people?"

No one met his eyes.

Pecon sighed and rubbed his temple, the beginnings of a headache coming on.  "Look, it's just the pressure getting to all of us.  Remember, we made this trip to blow off steam and keep busy.  So that's what we're going to do.  We're going to expend all our energy to finding those dragonballs, and then we're going home to train, and pretty soon Goten will be back.  We'll have someone to tell us what to do again, because apparently some of us need that," he ended in a particularly nasty shot.

A wince went through the group.  However, it was accompanied by a silent truce.  Everyone knew that the only thing that really mattered was getting Goten back.  They were being selfish in deterring that from happening with petty squabbles.  They were both ashamed and frustrated.

Not that they'd admit that.

"It stopped!!" Darjili shrieked.

Tension momentarily forgotten, the group crowded around the bench where Darjili was currently holding the dragon radar in triumph.  While they had been arguing and lecturing, Darjili, hungry herself, had been carefully monitoring the progress of the elusive dragonball.

"Where do you see it?" Pan asked, trying to get a better look at it.

Darjili squinted at the reading.  "I'm guessing… about a block from here.  Left."

Danton spun and started running in that direction.  "C'mon!" he called to the others.  "Before it moves again!"

The others immediately followed him, trying desperately not to knock over innocent passers-by or harm any property.  It was a difficult task, though.  Already the dragonball was moving slightly, so they had to hurry.

Darjili came to a sudden stop, making everyone else bump into her.  She snagged the back of Danton's shirt before he could keep going and lose them without realizing.

"Hey, Darjili," Krianan said, slightly out of breath from the sudden mad dash, "Why'd ya stop here?"

Darjili looked around, holding the radar like a weapon.  "It's gotta be around here somewhere."

The other four crowded around Darjili as she inched forward, seemingly aimlessly.  The dragonball was nowhere apparent, but it was small and easily missed.  They knew that for a fact from their previous retrieval.

Pecon's eyes began to cross from the close analysis of their surroundings to find a small orange ball.  He blinked several times, his eyes watering.  When his eyes came into focus, he thought he was seeing things.  Then he hoped he was seeing things.  Then he prayed to Kami he was seeing things.

"Do you see what I see?" Krianan asked quietly.

"That couldn't possibly…" Pan began.

_It is_, Pecon realized.  They were seeing one of the legendary seven dragonballs, the multiple savior of all mankind and the hope for the future, an all-powerful ancient relic… in the hands of a little golden-haired drooling toddler.  The child was at this point tossing it up in the air as high as it could, and then catching it and trying to stuff it in her mouth.

They were at the edge of the park, and Pecon could see no mother for the child anywhere.  Pecon and the rest sat down on another park bench to consider.

"How are we going to steal from a kid?" Danton was the first to speak up.

"Well…" Pan said, "It's not stealing, really.  I mean, it's not like the kid own the thing.  Kid probably just found it, or maybe the parents did."

"What parents?" Krianan asked with a sarcastic twinge.

The five looked around suspiciously, but there was no one to be found.  They realized that they could conceivably just walk up to the kid and take the ball, but no one wanted to do that.  However they tried to rationalize it, it just seemed wrong.

"Oh, come on," Pecon said impatiently.  "We'll just swipe it when the kid isn't looking.  We've gotten much faster than the human eye."

Darjili laughed.  "Well, if you're so confident, oh mighty thief, then you take it."

Pecon squared himself.  "All right, I will."  He got up, aware that the others were staring at him.  No matter what his rationalization or resolve, he still hesitated.

"Go on," Danton encouraged him quietly.  "Just get it over with and then we can eat."

Pecon's heart was in his throat.  He gave two hard swallows and slowly approached the child.  _I'll have to move faster than this if I'm going to get the thing._

In a sudden burst of speed, Pecon raced forward and grabbed the dragonball just as it sailed high in the air, thrown by the child.  Pecon stopped and stared at it happily, his heart pounding from the sudden burst of energy and the sheer audacity of his action.  He marveled at the five-star dragonball and wondered why everyone made such a big deal out of finding it.

"Hey, you!!  Just what are you doing to my baby?!"

Pecon whirled around and the sound and realized that he hadn't thought enough to put some more distance between him and the child.  The child was currently wailing her eyes out and pointing straight at Pecon.

The other Spider students were staring, wide-eyed, at the scene.  No one was moving.

The woman, who had before been absent from the scene, was now holding and trying to comfort the child, while at the same time looking accusingly at Pecon.  "What are you, a pervert?!" she continued to scream.  Then she spotted the "toy."  "Trying to steal from my baby?!"

Something connected in Pecon's brain at the word "steal."  He realized that he was in the middle of a city with a woman with a crying child practically screaming that he had molested the girl.  He had never before dealt with such a situation, and he didn't really see a way out of it.  He did something he did know how to do, however.  He ran.

Running for a normal human would have been a foolhardy effort, especially with the police undoubtedly coming.  Running for him, however, was something almost surpassing the speed of sound.  In fact, running turned into flying as he was joined by the other Spider students, who had no doubt that they would be arrested for being associated with him.

About fifty miles west of the city, they stopped, breathing hard in earnest.  Pecon had to force himself to lose the death-grip on the dragonball that had caused so much trouble.  He wiped the sweat from his bald head.

Slowly, as he thought about his situation, a grin began to form on his lips.  Then a chuckle.  Finally he was laughing rather hysterically, partly in relief and partly for the absurdity of the situation.  The others at first stared, and then they joined in.  It's hard to stay out of a good laugh.

As they slowed down, Darjili wiped her eyes, gulping for breath.  "So… why are we laughing again?"

Danton was still laughing, though he was clutching his sides in pain.  "Did you see the look on Pecon's face when that woman pointed at him and accused him of… of…"  He broke off, unable to contain himself.

"What look?" Pecon asked.  That started everyone off again.

The five landed in a nice country field to rest from their mad dash and their bout with the giggles.  

Krianan laid back in the grass.  "Well, I hope we don't have to do anything worse than that for a dragonball."

Pan rolled her eyes, though all malice between them was temporarily forgotten.  "What are the chances of that?"

*****

Darjili glared at Krianan.  "You had to open your big mouth back there, didn't you?"

Krianan crossed her arms.  "Well, it's not like I expected it to be ironically prophetic or anything."

Darjili shook her head.  "You're always prophetic.  You can't help it.  Maybe you're meant to be a fortuneteller or something."

Krianan seemed to consider.  "Well, Uranai Baba does make really good money."

Darjili looked away, which was just fine with Krianan.  Darjili tended to get a little high-handed on occasions, especially when she was in her blonde mode.  She also thought that she knew everything.

Krianan surveyed the bank.  The First Bank of South City, main branch, to be exact.  It was a fortress-like building with a slight Greco-Roman design of pillars and pale brick.  Guards were at all the entrances.  Not the old codgery bank security that she'd seen at the banks in Satan City.  No, these were people from an actual unit of the Royal Army, since part of the royal treasury was stored in the bank.  

Krianan looked back at the newspaper that had so horrified her from where she'd seen it, lying face-up in the garbage.  Right smack dab in the middle of the front page was a picture of the one-star dragonball.  Under it was a caption that labeled it "the most recent addition to the royal treasury."  Apparently some treasure hunter who knew the dragonball's worth had been trying to sell it to the highest bidder.  Unfortunately, the government was also quite aware of the value of the dragonballs, and had eventually bought the powerful bauble from the man, at a set price.

Krianan knew that no one was going to be able to get close to that dragonball.  Right now it was being housed and protected in a special vault in the high-security bank.  They had no true legal claim to the dragonball, so it was not feasible to just go up to the guards, or even the king of the world, and ask for the dragonball.  _The people who know about it should really keep all of them under wraps_, she thought.  _Then this wouldn't happen_.

Of course, Krianan realized that someone like Bulma-san would just negotiate with the king or buy it from him.  She wouldn't have any problem with this obstacle.  In fact, she could still do it.  The Spider students had discussed calling Bulma… and then threw out that idea.

Yes, threw it out.  Krianan was glad.  She was determined to do this on her own… or her and the group do it on their own.  They had to prove that they didn't need anyone's assistance, that they had worth of their own.  And part of that was collecting the dragonballs unassisted, no matter what it took.

Krianan looked over at Darjili, who was already undoubtedly making plans.  She felt very much the side-kick.  Ever since their search had started that feeling of inadequacy was made painfully clear to her.  She and Danton were at the same power level, roughly, and Darjili, Pecon, and Pan were all stronger than them.  No matter how hard they worked, they still couldn't surpass the Saiyan or the two live-ins.

Krianan had considered moving into the Spider house, but that would have cost more money – money that her parents just didn't have.  That's what really set her apart from the others.  Pecon was pretty much set for life with the inheritance he was drawing now that he was old enough.  Darjili had enough from her parents' money, most of which Krianan realized was obtained through less than lawful means.  Pan had enough from her grandfather Satan, and Danton wasn't bad off himself.  Krianan was the only one who actually had a job.  Everyone else just went to school and studied at the Spider dojo.  Krianan had a part-time job at a construction company.  Of course, she could have easily taken a job in a store, restaurant, or office, but that was just so stereotypically feminine.  Krianan would do nothing that propagated female subservience.  She took the male job, and excelled at it.

Darjili began to leave.  Krianan guessed that Darjili had "cased the joint" and followed her.  Krianan was determined not to be subservient in this either, even to other women.  She had to prove that she was tough enough to do and excel in anything.  That's why she was being so confrontational lately.  She just felt like doing something drastic.

The two met up with Pecon, Danton, and Pan.  Danton shifted his feet and spoke in a low tone.  "So how did it look?"

Darjili crossed her arms.  "No good.  But I think we can get in there tonight if we're fast and careful."

Pecon looked over his shoulder at the bank.  "Do we really want to… rob… the place?  I mean, isn't that a little drastic?"

Krianan rolled her eyes.  "Well, what do you propose we do?  Stroll over there and ask for it, just because we want to wish our sensei back from the dead because someone is coming to destroy the world?"  She snorted in disdain.

Pan cocked her head.  "Makes sense to me."

Krianan shook her head.  "Listen, if you're all too chicken to do it, then I will."

Darjili's head snapped over.  "What?  Don't you think we should do this together?"

Krianan set herself.  She knew she was the least qualified and possibly the weakest, but she also knew that if she got away with it, her merit would shoot up tenfold.  "Listen," she continued, "the more people we bring in there the more chances for being caught.  One person would have the best chance, and I'm the most logical."

The four others looked at her doubtfully, so Krianan went into a careful explanation, most of which was made up on the spot.  "The… thief…" Pecon flinched as she said this, "has to be small, so Danton is automatically out.  Darjili, what if you sneezed during it.  That always slows you down and might draw attention."

Darjili looked slightly affronted, but she nodded her assent.

Krianan sighed.  So far so good.  "Pan, you're recognizable.  Everyone knows the granddaughter of Satan-san.  And Pecon…"

She was suddenly at a loss for words.

Pecon supplied them, however.  "I'm already slightly in trouble with the law.  I don't want to get in more trouble.  And I don't like this altogether, though I see why it needs to be done.  OK, Krianan.  Looks like you're the most logical person after all.  You're non-descript enough to do it."

Krianan realized what her arguments had backed her into.  Nondescript.  Such a horrible adjective.  She naturally grated against it, but it was to no avail.  That was what got her into the job, so she would have to stand by her arguments.

Darjili pursed her lips.  "OK, looks like I'll have to teach you some of what to do."

Pan cocked her head.  "Darjili, how would you know how to pull off a bank heist?"

Darjili grinned.  "Oh, come on.  You don't think that my mother taught me nothing.  I loved it when Mom was in blonde mode and taught me all those tricks of the trade for a thief.  Half of my mother was a really great thief.  It was the other half that made her get caught."

Krianan rolled her eyes at another strange and quirky thing that made her companions so interesting.  Both of Krianan's parents were dentists, and would be horrified to know that their little girl was holding up a bank.

*

Krianan crept noiselessly through the labyrinth of hallways in the bank.  She carefully read for any kis that happened into the bank.  All she could feel were a few bug-sized signals and some guards in the front entrance.  They had been confused as to why the bank was so poorly guarded until they realized that today was Satan Day, the anniversary of one of Satan-san's achievements or another.  They knew it wasn't the end of the Cell Games, but frankly, they just didn't care.  All they knew was that everyone was out celebrating instead of guarding the dragonball.

The night was so extremely dark that Krianan had to concentrate almost everything just to see.  _Pan would have been able to almost see in the dark_, a nasty little voice in Krianan's head rang out.

To ignore her doubts, Krianan went through everything Darjili had told her.  She wasn't making any sound, not even breathing.  She was balancing on the balls of her feet just in case she had to make a break for it.  She was memorizing every exit and hiding place as she went along, and the information was threatening to become muddled in her brain.  Somehow, through severe mental discipline over the past few years, she was able to keep it all straight in her head.

She slid along the wall, keeping close watch for security cameras as well, and started to see the attraction for being a thief or an assassin.  There was something comforting and exciting at the same time about being at one with the shadows.  It was almost like she could merge with them – the she could do anything as long as she was careful to stay within their comforting blanket.  She could imagine stalking a prey, even a human prey, for death or merely plunder, and feeling the glee of having complete control and expertise.  It was practically addictive.

All too soon Krianan came upon the energy signature of the dragonball.  There had been stories of people tracking down dragonballs by energy signatures alone.  It was apparently much easier with the Namekian dragonballs, since those were so huge, but it required much more concentration for the smaller Earth dragonballs.  Since Krianan didn't want to bring in the noisy showy radar, she spent the better part of the afternoon just learning to focus on the dragonball's power signature.  Right now it was beginning to become second nature to keep the ki of the dragonball in the back of her senses.

The vault was open.

Krianan didn't think that was very strange at first.  She was just relieved that she didn't have to try any of those safe-cracking tricks she'd had a crash course in a few hours ago.  

Then she realized the enormity of the situation.  That vault was open.  She didn't sense anyone in there, but there may be plenty of safety precautions if she went in there.  The place may have even been harboring an android or robot or something like that.  Rumors were that the government had confiscated a lot of the Red Ribbon Army technology when Goku had destroyed them all.  That ended up being the basis of a lot of modern technology that wasn't Capsule Corp in origin.  But right now Krianan didn't care.  All she wanted to do was to get the dragonball, and if that meant destroying a robot, then so be it.

She pushed the door open.

"Who goes there?" came a nasally voice from the dark.

Krianan winced as twin red lights shone in her eyes, confirming her fears of a robot or android.  She merely tried to melt into the shadows.

"Are you trying to hide from me?" the voice continued after a moment.  "You needn't try.  I see you, girl.  Now why would a nice girl like you be trying to steal from the royal treasury?"

"What does it matter if I'm a girl or not?"  Krianan slapped a hand over her mouth.  _Stupid_! she screamed at herself.  

A light started to slowly illuminate the surroundings.  At the corner of the vault was the one-star dragonball, sitting on a purple cushion.  There were no other ornaments to the room, not even an obvious security camera.  And right in front of her was a tall… man? machine?  Krianan couldn't decide which.  He was extremely thin with black hair tied in a knot.  He wore traditional garb usually found more in the country.  And he had goggles for eyes and various mechanical attachments to his body.

He was positively horrifying.

The figure chuckled.  "So, if you don't want to be called "girl," then tell me your name?  Or shall I make one up?"

Krianan shook her head.  "Uh-uh.  Why should I tell a robot that I'm about to dismantle anyway?"

The man's laugh grew louder.  "Robot?  That's a new one… not!" he ended sarcastically.  "If you must know, girl, I am a man, with certain cybernetic implants. They make me faster, stronger, and more deadly than you can imagine."

Krianan crossed her arms.  She knew she needed to leave, but the verbal repartee was keeping her back.  She never could resist it.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Bionic Man, but you don't look like you were ever deadly to begin with."

The man smirked.  "That shows how much the younger generation is pathetically uneducated.  Surely you recognize the greatest assassin of the world."

"If you're such a great assassin," Krianan said, edging slowly toward the dragonball, "then why is an outlaw like you protecting the royal treasury?"

The man's smirk broadened.  "Community service.  Speaking of which, I need to do this community some service by getting rid of you."

Krianan crouched warily, not entirely sure how strong the… whatever… was.  She couldn't even feel any ki from him, but that meant nothing if he was a cyborg.  He could easily beat her up, for all she knew.  So Krianan waited.

Neither spoke a word.  While Krianan was in a defensive stance, the assassin was standing stock-still and straight with his hands behind his back.  Krianan couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling.  If he wasn't talking, he was as lifeless as a mannequin.  It reminded her of all the horror movies she'd ever seen, which was quite a lot.  The very unnatural blending of machinery and body parts that she could almost sense from him made her want to get out of there as quick as possible.  But he was in between her and the dragonball.  She couldn't leave that.

Losing patience, Krianan lunged for him.  She didn't use all her power, but it was enough to where a normal person wouldn't even be able to tell her movements.

But he apparently could.  The assassin dodged and grabbed her arm, throwing her off balance and whipping her around.  She skidded across the floor, making an awkward screeching rub when her skin stayed in contact with the metal floor.  She got back up, cursing herself for dropping her guard and being so sloppy.

Krianan didn't have long to curse, though.  The assassin was already running toward her, so she dodged him.  He spun before he made contact with the wall, only to see a fist heading straight for his head.  He moved his head to the side, and Krianan's fist dented the metal wall behind him.  She went in with her other fist, successfully planting it in his stomach.  Before he could so much as cough, she threw him across the room.

Now, this would be the time that Krianan would regret long afterward.  The cyborg was dazed for the moment.  She could have easily grabbed the dragonball right then, and would have the luxury of a choice of making a break for it or killing the cyborg.  That would have been the most logical thing to do.  Of course, Krianan wasn't logical, and never had been.  She went after the cyborg, intent on finishing the job.

The assassin was ready for her, however.  He was not so dazed after all.  He threw off one of his hands, revealing a rather large cannon.

"Super Dodonpa!" he screamed.  A light  blasted forth, and Krianan had to duck.

The blasts singed her where they got too close to her.  Krianan realized that there was some electricity mixed in with the ki.  The blasts came in fast, but she was able to concentrate to get a few blasts of her own through.  Most of them were countered by dodonpa blasts, but she was pleased to see that the assassin's clothes were becoming blackened, and a few circuits were dangling here and there.

"What are you, made of dilithium?" Krianan shrieked in frustration.

The assassin merely smirked and continued his barrage with renewed vigor.  Krianan began to work her way closer towards him, still working on dodging his blasts.  She finally got in close enough to grab the arm… when a blade came right at her.

A sharp pain when right across her stomach, and she reached down only to feel wet blood and torn fabric.  A fleeting thought went through her mind of how glad she was that the blade didn't go higher, and therefore became a stereotypical part of a female in a fight.  She didn't have long to think, though.  The blasts had stopped, but the blade was coming at her again.

Krianan ducked and rolled out of the way.  Still close to the ground, she flung a leg out, tripping the cyborg up.  He landed on the ground with a dull thud mixed with the clack of his metal components hitting metal.  Krianan got up and kicked the flat of the blade forcefully, dislodging it from her opponent's wrist and sending it clanging to the other end of the room… toward the dragonball.

She considered heading in that direction, but she was still worried about the cannon on the cyborg's other hand.  She didn't want to turn her back on him.  Instead, she began kicking him in the gut, thinking he would eventually lose consciousness.  Plus, it just felt to satisfying to kick him in the gut.  He made these groans that told her that she was getting him right where it hurt.

After a minute, the groans faded away.  Krianan gave one last kick for good measure and then knelt down to check for a pulse.  She felt none, and was pretty sure that, whoever the cyborg was, it was dead.  Krianan felt a little sick about killing what may have been a person, but she pushed those feelings away.  She was just dealing with her mission.

Krianan rose and felt a little stinging jab from getting up too fast.  She shook her leg to get rid of the tingles as she tried to walk over to the dragonball.  She had to stop, though, when the tingles only intensified, along with black dots in front of her eyes.  Krianan tried to shake it and put it from her head.  She'd been trained to ignore pain and weakness, after all.  She was just tired, or the fight might have taken more out of her than she though.  Yeah.  That was it.

After one more step she stumbled to her knees.  She could barely feel the impact of the hard floor after the unchecked fall.  The pain was more in her head, literally, and a little in her thigh.  She moved her hand down to the pain in her thigh and felt a little blood.  Her hand ventured upward slightly.  That's when she felt the hard projection, like…

"A dart?" Krianan said to no one in particular, her speech a little more slurred than it should have been.  "Wha-"

She stopped talking.  Nausea had just hit her, and she felt like she was going to lose the roast fish on the vault floor.  Her vision was more black spots than light.  She was still making a valiant effort to get up, but the sickness in her stomach and throat would not allow it.

Through her muddled mind, she realized what had happened.  _That bast…_

Krianan didn't get to finish her thought.

*****

Pan, Danton, Pecon, and Darjili waited impatiently in the park across from the bank.  They were not alarmed that they couldn't feel Krianan's ki.  She was trying to be stealthy, after all.  What did worry them was the sudden upsurge in ki only moments before.  Perhaps she'd had to use it to get past a security system.  Perhaps not.

"We should really go check on her," Danton said aloud the thing he'd been thinking for practically an hour.

"Not yet," Darjili said shortly.  "Give her time."

Pecon sighed and folded his arms.  "I'm beginning to agree with Danton.  She's been in there too long, and who knows what trouble she's gotten herself into."

Pan rolled her eyes.  "Boy, you have a lot of faith in her."

Pecon set himself.  "Yes, I do have faith in her.  Remember, I was against this in the very beginning.  I'd be saying the same thing about anybody."

Danton shook his head.  "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I have faith in Krianan about this.  She's too stubborn and so ready to prove herself that she'll do just about anything without thinking.  That's not a good thing for such a delicate mission."

Darjili thought for a minute.  "Her reasoning may have been self-promoting and therefore biased, but most of it was true.  She really is physically the best of us to go in there.  Theoretically, I would have been the most logical choice, but then I thought of how many times my mother said that her various crimes went wrong when she changed at an inconvenient time."

"But Darjili," Pecon interjected, "you can control it better than she ever could.  You don't lose memory or anything."

Darjili stared straight ahead.  "Still too much of a risk."  

Their conversation was cut short by a figure coming at them slowly in the dark.  They tensed.  They had been watching for policemen all night.  Strangely enough, they had seen no one.  They had been a little suspicious of how there was so little evidence of security at a bank.  None of them were expert criminals, even Darjili, but they had still had their doubts.

The figure was not of a policeman.  If it were, he or she would probably be stopping in a car instead of wandering around alone, making it easy to be incapacitated.  So they jumped to the more likely candidate for the identity of the vague shadow.

"Krianan!" Pan shouted.  "'Bout time!"

"Shh," Pecon warned her.

"Is that the name of the girl who dared challenge me?" a nasally voice cut into the darkness.

The four were immediately on their guard, driving away the shock of the full import of what the figure was saying.

"What do you mean?" Darjili asked threateningly.

The assassin stepped into the light and seemed to carefully survey the four who had now taken defensive stances.  "I had conjectured that she would have compatriots.  I am relieved to see that I haven't lost my edge after all these years."

Darjili stared at the symbol on the man's chest, trying to remember where she had seen it before.

"What do you have to do with Krianan?!" Danton screamed.

The assassin chuckled.  "Why, haven't you guessed?  I was guarding the vault with the little orange bauble.  Now, I will not get amnesty if someone steals the prize of the royal treasury.  So why don't you stop while you still can.  You're all too young to be experienced thieves, so I wish to give novices a second chance.  Leave this place."

"We're not going anywhere without Krianan AND the dragonball," Pan interjected.

Darjili suddenly grinned in recognition.  "Why would you need amnesty, Taopiepie?  Did you finally get caught?"

The assassin's eyes widened.  "So the younger generation is not completely ignorant of their recent history.  Or did I kill your father or something.  Is this a revenge thing?" he asked with a sneer.

Darjili snorted.  "You didn't kill my father.  Not that you didn't try, though.  Why he spared your sorry excuse for a life I have no idea."

She had expected Taopiepie to panic just a little, or at least be awestruck.  Instead, he laughed.

"You mean Tenshinhan procreated?" Taopiepie spouted out incredulously.  "What a ludicrous notion.  Tell me, where's the third eye?"

Darjili growled.

"Um…" Pecon began, "You know this guy?"

Taopiepie smirked when Darjili didn't answer.  "I was her father's master and role model.  He used to be a fairly good assassin, and he would have gotten much better if he hadn't been brainwashed by that Turtle Hermit."  He shook his head wryly.  "But then, of course, he probably wouldn't have had such a charming offspring."

Darjili growled again.

"Articulate, too," Taopiepie added.

Danton huffed impatiently.  Knowing the history of their opponent was all well and good, but they were wasting time, and the assassin may have even contacted the police or army or something.  "Give us back Krianan!" he shouted.

Taopiepie smiled.  "Yes, that's the second time that girl has been requested.  Unfortunately, I can't.  She has to stay and take the consequences.  You all can go, since you weren't recorded on security camera, but she was."

Darjili's eyes narrowed.  "Why are you offering to let us go in the first place?"

Taopiepie smirked.  "Your father may have told you horror stories about me, but he only gave you a one-sided view.  I have no patience for small children making themselves out to be heroes, but for those who are willing to bend the rules, and know what they're doing?  Let's just say I'm sympathetic.  Now get out of here."

Darjili was about to launch into another question or denunciation, but Pecon cut her off.  "Look," he began, "we can't leave without the dragonball."  He raised his arms before him, palms out, in a sign of placation.

If Taopiepie had eyebrows, one would have been raised.  "Why are you so bent on getting a dragonball?  The last time I had to fight someone for a dragonball, he was merely collecting them for training."

Pecon winced, but went on.  "There is that factor, but we have to have them.  Our master died a few months ago.  We have to use the dragonballs to bring him back to life.  It was a promise."

Taopiepie considered for a minute.  "So, you're saying that the rules of death don't work for him when it works for everyone else?  That your master, merely because he is Son Goku's son, gets preferential treatment?"

The Spider students were astonished.  He chuckled at their expressions.  "What, you think that you're the only ones who watch the Budoukai?  It was a simple deduction."

Darjili's eyes grew hard.  "And this argument is from a man who should by all rights be dead, and IS dead in a sense, but cheated death through cybernetics?"

Taopiepie grinned.  "You got me there.  So, I suppose we'll fight for it?"

Darjili nodded.  "You and me."

"Now, wait a minute, Darjili," Pan protested, "You can't be sure what he did to defeat Krianan.  Sure, you're stronger than her, but not by that much."

Darjili walked away from the others.  "I'll be fine.  Besides, this is personal."

Darjili powered up, setting herself for a fight.  

Taopiepie folded his arms and chuckled.  "Well, I suppose further reasoning would be an exercise in futility.  You're just as stubborn as your father."  He frowned and pulled himself into stance.

The two stared each other down for a minute.  Unlike Krianan, Darjili had plenty of patience.  She'd learned it when trying to train herself in a personality problem.  She stayed as still as stone, not buying any of his feints.

The others stood by and watched.  They were sure that they couldn't get past him to find Krianan in the vault.  And even if they did, they couldn't be sure if they would find her there.  All they could do was wait.

Taopiepie made the first move.  He ran in for a punch in one sudden move, trying to take Darjili off guard.  His plan seemingly failed.  She was ready for him, blocking the fist and any other fist he threw her way.  She continued to dodge and block, though everyone could tell that her movements were getting a little desperate.  Taopiepie didn't fight like anyone she had ever fought before.

So she decided to break from just defense.  Darjili caught one of Taopiepie's fists and delivered her own fist into his gut.  Her knuckles bruised against metal, but he felt it too.  She smiled grimly and started a barrage of her own.  He blocked most, but not all.  Taopiepie was also getting desperate.  He didn't think new person was left who could dent his armor.

The two locked arms and struggled, each trying not to give first.  Darjili drove her nail into some flesh she found in his arms.  She used to hate to fight dirty, but Jita had taught her that the tricks were useful when she was in a real fight.  And this was a real fight.

Blood ran down Darjili's knuckles and stained Taopiepie's gi.  Although, she noted with a sick feeling, no all of the blood was his.  Darjili had split the skin of several of her knuckles when she had been punching him.  She hadn't noticed it until now.

Taopiepie noticed it too, and grinned, despite his own painful condition.  Just because he was a cyborg didn't mean he didn't feel pain.  But this was a fight, and pain was expected, and used to spur on the fighting spirit.  He also grinned at her attempts to fight dirty, knowing that he was the expert at it.

Darjili began to sweat, her palms tiring and stinging from the armlock.  Then her palms burned.  Then…

"Augh!" Darjili cried out sharply, jerking her hands away from Taopiepie's burning-hot arms.  Taopiepie used the momentum and the expected movement to slam into Darjili, sending her skidding across the pavement a few feet.  Then he chuckled… and waited.

Darjili got to her feet, hastily pulling her hands away from the pavement.  The hands were in bad shape.  Her knuckles were split, her palms had blistering burns, and pieces of flesh not her own were embedded in her fingernails.  She blew on her hands, but knew that she could do no more right now.  She had to finish the fight.

Taopiepie huffed mockingly.  "Are you done licking your wounds, already?  You don't see me obsessing over a few paltry flesh wounds."  His arms bled nonetheless.

Darjili pulled herself together.  "Don't think you've gained the advantage over me.  I am stronger than you."

Taopiepie smirked.  "And what a fine job you're doing of showing it.  Though perhaps you'd like a little less contact.  Give your poor little hands a rest."  With that he uncovered the cannon in his arm.

Now, you don't see people remove their arms every day, so Darjili was slightly shocked.  She recovered quickly, though, and readied herself. 

"Super Dodonpa!" Taopiepie screamed, and let forth the blast.

Darjili stood her ground and crossed her arms in front of her face.  They were in the city, possibly even near residences.  She couldn't just dodge and let the blast destroy everything in its wake.  She realized that the assassin just might not care, and that gave him the advantage.  However, the blast wasn't all that powerful.  She could bear it.

There was a pause in Taopiepie's actions.  Though to a weaker fighter it would have seemed like nothing.  Darjili realized that he had to use a few seconds to charge back for another attack.  She took the advantage and decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Darjili, quick as lightning, pointed her palm to the cyborg and let loose a ki-blast… which he dodged, and drove her to her knees.  It hurt so much!  She hadn't realized that gathering ki in injured palms could hurt.  She closed her eyes, cursing her own weakness.

Then she heard gasps.

She looked up, nearly expecting to find Taopiepie right upon her, but he was staring away from her, gaping slightly.

"What the hell did you do, girl?" he asked quietly.

Darjili was confused about that, until she looked up and saw the fire.  And the smoke.  And the ash.  And that the bank was not there.

Darjili let the fact sink in.

The bank was not there.

Taopiepie looked around sharply, suddenly scared to death.  "The hell with this," he muttered.  A metal beam had landed close by, so the assassin picked it up, threw it as hard as he could, and jumped onto it.  He was completely untrackable within seconds.

Darjili was still on her knees.  She didn't even try to halt Taopiepie's retreat.  She was too busy searching desperately for Krianan's ki.

She couldn't find it.  So she did the only logical thing to do.  She began to cry.

Not silent sullen tears.  Oh no.  These were loud racking sobs that made her face scrunch up beyond recognition.  This entire night was too much for her to take.

Vaguely she realized that arms were picking her up.  She didn't even care to see if it was the police carrying her off to jail.  She realized it wasn't when she was lifted high off the ground.  She looked around her to see Danton and Pecon, tears streaming down both of their faces.  Pan was further to the side with a glassy expression on her face.

_No_, Darjili thought.  _Turn back.  She may have survived.  I may not have…_

But they were too far away already.  Surely there would be law enforcement everywhere.  Not even their connections could get them out of this jam.

Darjili consigned herself to a stupor until they landed far away from the city in the woods where they had last set up camp.  Darjili slumped to the ground when she was let go.

"She's dead," Darjili croaked out.  "I killed her.  She's dead."

"Who's dead?"

Darjili slowly looked up, unbelieving.  That voice…

There was Krianan, grinning mischievously, and holding a dragonball.

"Krianan!!" Darjili heard Danton yell.  Danton raced past her to throw his arms around Krianan, weeping and laughing at the same time.  Pan and Pecon followed suit soon after.

Darjili struggled to her feet and slowly walked toward the group hug that was threatening to knock Krianan down.

Krianan noticed Darjili, and broke from the group to run and embrace the injured girl.  Darjili stood stunned a minute, and then slowly pulled her arms up to enfold her friend.

"I thought I'd killed you," Darjili whispered.

Krianan laughed and pulled back.  "No way in hell, Darjili.  I'm too strong for you."

Darjili stared for a minute, and then grinned.

*****

Darjili bit back her curses, and then when the pain intensified let a few of them fly.

Pecon was getting irritated.  "Darjili, you've got to hold still."

Darjili bit her lip while her eyes watered.  She tried to control her breathing.  "It hurts, Pecon."

Darjili felt some big arms embrace her from behind and saw them latch onto her wrists.  "That oughta do it, Pecon," she heard Danton's voice near her ear.

"Hey!" Darjili shouted.  "I'm not a baby!  Lemme go!"

She saw Krianan glare darkly at her.  "At least he didn't put a bandaid on your butt."  Krianan glared at said area where Taopiepie had drugged her.

"So what are we gonna do about Taopiepie?" Pan asked through a mouthful of food.

Krianan sat next to the campfire and poked it with a stick.  "What can we do about him?  We got what we were coming for right here."  She tossed the dragonball in the air and caught it.

"Plus," Pecon began absently, "like it or not, he was in the right and we were in the wrong.  I mean, he was on the side of the law and we were stealing from a bank.  I think unless he comes after us, then we leave him alone."

"Good idea.. Besides… I blew up a bank," Darjili said through gritted teeth.  Pecon had finished disinfecting her hands and was wrapping them in bandages.

Pan had been studying the dragon radar in between bites of ramen.  Suddenly, she laughed.

"Well, it looks like the rest of the hunt is going to be easy," Pan said to the questioning stares.

Darjili was finally allowed to put her hands gingerly in her lap.  "Why is that?"

Pan grinned.  "They're right in these woods.  Grandma and Grandpa live in these woods, so they may even be at their house."

"They?" Danton asked.

Pan nodded.  "Three, to be exact.  Dragonballs always seem to just fall around this area.  If Grandpa sees one, he'll go ahead and take it home."

Pecon was packing up the first aid kit.  "So, we go there in the morning?"

Krianan shot him a glance.  "Dude.  Sleep on the _ground _when there's a house, as well as _Chichi_?  She could be baking cookies right this very moment."

"Now, wait a minute," Pecon cut in.  "We're not expected."

Pan rolled her eyes.  "Oh, come on.  Grandma won't mind."

The five looked at each other, and then with silent consensus began to pack up the rest of their stuff and fly to the Son house.

*****

Pan grinned as she began to see familiar sights that she hadn't seen in months.  She knew she was a horrible person for not visiting her grandparents all that often, especially her grandmother.  Her father would shoot looks at her sometimes, and that's when she would know that Chichi had been asking about her.

But Chichi wasn't as demanding as everyone said.  At least Pan never really got that impression.  She did get the impression, though, that her grandmother had changed a lot from how she used to act.

Pan breathed in happily, already smelling wood smoke and home cooking – the signature smell of the Son house.  She knew better than to ask the others if they smelled it too, though.  She had grown up around there, so she noticed it.  Also, she had a better sense of smell than any of the others.

"How come your grandparents live so far out in the woods?" Krianan asked absently.

Pan shrugged.  "It's not so far away from everything.  My great-grandfather's kingdom is nearby, and this is around where my grandpa landed.  Plus, they own most of this land."

Pan thought she noticed the looks the others gave her when she said "landed."  Pan grimaced.  It wasn't like she could help that her grandfather was an alien.

That was something that followed Pan around all the time.  Her parents had tried to give her a normal enough childhood.  Pan suspected it was overcompensating for their own screwed up childhoods.  Pan had gone to school like everyone else.  She'd studied hard, just like everyone else.  She'd tried to fit in… just like everyone else.

The problem was… she couldn't fit in.  From an early age both of her grandfathers had encouraged her to learn how to fight, each in their own ways.  She'd come to accept that as natural.  It had been the shock of her life when she found out that not every little girl had run around the world by the age of four.

After that, Pan had been conscious of everything she said.  But a lot of times she didn't know what other people were talking about, and they didn't know what she was talking about.  It took her forever to come to a full understanding of the whole Cell thing.

But what had made her different and stronger than the other girls had not helped her against any of the other Saiyans.  They were all stronger than her.  It chafed her to realize that both her father and Uncle Goten had achieved Super Saiyan long before the age she was now.  She could never be as strong.

She was barely Saiyan, but it was just enough to make her weird.

"Hey Pan.  Is that it?"

Pan noticed that they were right up to the house, and she grinned.  Even though this was the weirdest place in the world – the embodiment of all her difficulties – she loved it there.

The five swooped down, Pan in the forefront.  She knocked on the door, hoping that Chichi wouldn't be angry at the late hour.

"Coming!" they heard a slightly muffled voice before the door opened to reveal Chichi.  Chichi's face turned to a delighted grin, and then quickly shifted to a bemused, long-suffering smile.  "Well, what do we have here?  Come begging at the door, from a grandchild who never visits?"

Pan laughed and scratched the back of her head.  "I'm sorry, Grandma.  I've just been busy lately."

Chichi raised an eyebrow.  "Always excuses.  But I guess I can let you come in, seeing as how someone's got to eat these cookies."

The five grinned, with Krianan giving a superior look, as if to say "I told you so."  They filed in, with Pan giving Chichi a big hug.

Chichi laughed.  "So, are you all coming to spend the night or something?"

Pecon looked slightly away.  "If that's no trouble, ma'am."

Chichi rolled her eyes.  "Of course not!  You know I run a hotel here.  _Everyone_ stays over here."

Pecon and Danton helped Chichi pull the pallets from the attic and fix up the two bedrooms while the others took care of the rest of Chichi's cookies.

They all sat down at the table, happily spreading crumbs everywhere.  "So," Chichi began, "what brings all of you out to the sticks."

Pan wiped her mouth.  "We're collecting dragonballs, and we followed the radar right here."

Chichi's eyes grew serious.  "Good.  I'm glad you're taking this seriously.  I was wondering when someone would think to gather the dragonballs… or do anything," she finished with a slightly bitter tinge.

Pan cocked her head.  "But Grandpa—"

Pan stopped when Chichi shot her a clear signal.  On that said _later_.  Pan shut her mouth, questions flashing in her mind.

There was tension over the cookies, the good humor having left the room.  Everyone knew that something was wrong, but no one would broach the topic.  It wasn't their business anyway.  It was a family matter.

Darjili finally stood up, wanting to give Chichi and Pan some space.  "Well, I think it's time to turn in.  We've done enough for today."  She smiled.  _We've done enough damage for today._

Chichi may have been distraught, but she couldn't miss the state of Darjili's hands.  "Child, what have you done to yourself," Chichi said in shock, already rising to her feet.

Darjili tucked her hands behind her back.  "It's nothing, really"

Chichi grabbed Darjili's arms and pulled the hands near her eyes.  Darjili grimaced in renewed pain.  "Nothing, my foot," Chichi said.  "Mere disinfectant isn't going to work on this, though it's good for a start.  Come with me."

Chichi led Darjili back to the bathroom, ignoring Darjili's protests the entire time.  Chichi wasn't concerned about the girl's pride, but the girl's health.  Plus, she knew how useless a fighter was without hands.

The others tried to ignore the pained protests that could be heard from the other room.  After a moment, Pecon ventured a question.  "Are you alright, Pan?"

Pan had been staring off into space, thinking about the scanty details she'd heard about her grandfather over the past few months.  She knew that everyone was bummed out about Goten and Jita's deaths, but Goku was taking it especially hard.  The thing was… she just couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone, and it was frustrating her to no end.

Pan didn't answer Pecon's question.  Instead, she looked up along with everyone else when Goku walked into the room.

Walked wasn't really the right word.  Neither was trudged.  He just happened to walk in, mechanically.  Pan was tempted to hide the rest of the cookies, but Goku never made a grab for them.

"Hello, Goku-san!" Danton said cheerily, trying to break the tension, as well as Goku's spell.

It actually appeared to work.  Goku looked up, and automatically assumed his family bright-eyed smile.  "Hey, guys!  Pan, it's been forever!  What are you doing here?"

When Pan didn't say anything, Krianan answered.  "We're collecting dragonballs!  You have some around here?"

Goku's grin didn't change.  "Of course!  They're over by the river.  Hey Pan!  Want to help me get them?"

Pan didn't move.

There seemed to be a desperation about Goku now.  "C'mon, Pan.  It'll be just like old times!"

Pan was really weirded out by this sudden reversion to Goku's old self, and she didn't know what to make of it.  Had her grandfather finally cheered up, after months of moping about?  Pan thought about it, and actually wouldn't have put it past him.  So she decided to play along.  Though, she still couldn't figure out what that smell was…

"Sure, Grandpa!" she replied brightly.  The others were about to get up and follow her, but she shot them a look.  This was just her and her grandfather.  No one else.  The others sat down.

Pan followed Goku outside, who was chatting away about something or other.  Pan couldn't really follow his train of thought, since her own train was so worried about whether or not he was alright.

"So, Pan," Goku said, "how's collecting the dragonballs?"

Pan shrugged.  "Oh, you know.  It has to be done."

Goku laughed, and yet it sounded forced.  "Of course it has to be done.  It always has to be done.  No one's allowed to stay dead."

Pan's eyes widened in shock at those words.  Did she just hear that?  

Goku was still laughing.  He was leading her deeper into the forest.  "That's right," he said a little too brightly.  "I'm the one who started that.  Upa's father… Bora, that's the name.  And then it's been an excuse each time, even when the gods themselves have told me not to.  But we keep dying and coming back."  Goku grinned back at Pan.  "Except you.  You've never died, I don't think."

Pan realized what she'd been smelling all the way from the house, and it scared her greatly.  "Grandpa, have you been…"

But Goku cut her off.  "Hey, I've got an idea.  Let's spar, right here right now.  I know you've gotten stronger.  You're not like your father.  He stopped training.  You kept it up."

Pan stared at him unblinking.  "Grandpa, I think we need to go back."

Goku stomped his foot to the ground.  "But I want to spar!"

Pan shook her head.  "I don't think you're in the condition to do that."

Goku laughed and spun around.  "What do you mean?  I'm in top condition.  I always train.  But I've been slacking off lately, so I need to get back to it, starting now."

Pan watched as Goku was suddenly doubled over, emptying his stomach on the forest floor.  Needless to say, she was scared.  But she didn't back off.

After it was over, Goku stayed knelt on the ground, too weak and too spent to move.  Pan carefully approached him, stepping over the sick, to hoist him to his feet.  She floated to be able to keep him straight with him leaning on her.  He submitted meekly to her actions, not saying a word at first.

Then, as they neared the house, he seemed to gain a little of his senses, for he was mumbling.  "Pan… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Pan wanted to reassure him.  She wanted to tell him that it was nothing.  She couldn't.

Chichi was standing at the door, looking utterly horrified at the sight of her granddaughter carrying her obviously-inebriated husband toward the house.  If she said anything, Pan didn't notice.  She was too much in shock.

Chichi suddenly seemed to snap back to the present, setting her mouth in a firm line.  "Let's get him to bed, Pan," she said calmly.

Pan wondered why she didn't address her grandfather, until she noticed that the Saiyan had passed out.

As they were clunking with difficulty down the hallway, Pecon peaked out of Goten's room, which had been chosen to serve as the boys' room.  When Pan caught his eye, Pecon looked away guiltily and shut the door.

Between the two of them, Pan and Chichi managed to get Goku into bed.  Chichi pulled his boots off, but didn't bother with the rest.  She shut off the lights and ushered Pan out of the room.

Pan sat on the couch in the living room.  Well, it was less like she sat down and more like her knees wouldn't support the weight of her body anymore.  Chichi was about to sit down, but she heard the tea kettle in the kitchen, so she went to make two cups of strong tea for herself and Pan.  Pan accepted the cup gratefully, though she wasn't a big tea drinker.  But she needed something to do with her hands… or just to distract her with what had just happened.

"When did Grandpa start this?" Pan asked quietly.

Chichi sighed.  "Tonight, actually.  And don't get the wrong idea.  He wouldn't have had that much."

Pan looked up, confused.  "What?  But he… was…  Well, he was drunk."

Chichi slouched in her chair, laughing a little.  "It's because he's a Saiyan.  Apparently something in Earth alcohol gets to Saiyans faster than anything.  Ironic, really.  They have so much strength… and zero tolerance for alcohol.  That's why I've taught you not to drink."

Pan coughed slightly, looking away.  "I think I have too much human blood in me, Grandma."

Chichi raised her eyebrows at Pan.  "I won't even ask if you know that from personal experience."

Pan refused to look at her, embarrassed.

Chichi smiled softly.  "Honestly, I don't know why Goku decided to do this.  He knows his reaction."

Pan looked up.  "Could it be this whole depression thing?"

Chichi nodded, still smiling wryly.  "What else could it be?  This whole depression thing…" she mused.  "The thing is," Chichi continued, almost to herself, "Goku never knew how to deal with depression.  Still doesn't.  Whenever things go wrong, he flies off and beats someone up.  Not that I mind.  The person or thing always needs beating up.  But… actually dealing with problems?  I may be the expert at that now, but… well… I don't think the man's ever actually brooded in his life."

Pan shifted uncomfortably, yet was transfixed on what her grandmother was saying.  There was no one who knew her grandpa better than the woman who was sipping tea across from her.  Everyone else thought that they knew him, but she was the one who actually saw Goku outside of fights or sparring or get-togethers.  She was the one who knew the man behind the grinning mask.

"Pan," Chichi said abruptly, "You need to get to bed.  You've got one more dragonball to get, and then I want you to settle down for a while.  We have months before any of the craziness happens, and you don't need to waste a year in emotional limbo."

Pan shook her head slowly.  "Grandma, how can you take this all so calmly?  How can you sit there smiling when grandpa's drunk, Uncle Goten and Aunt Jita's dead, Jiten's gone, and the world may end?  Why are you even smiling?"

Chichi sighed, her face relaxing slightly.  "Pan, you haven't lived through some of the things that even your parents did.  Sometimes it's just best to live your life like Goku has in the past – moment by moment, and not worrying so much about the fight to come.  You'll worry yourself into an early grave… and you'll give yourself frown lines."  Chichi absently fingered the skin around her eyes, knowing she looked older than she really was.

Pan sighed and got up, walking down the hallway.  I know you mean well, Grandma, but that doesn't stop me from being scared.  From what I've see tonight, I think the world has already ended.

*****

Goku woke up tasting bile.  He almost expected to see an opponent walking slowly toward him – that he had blacked out in the middle of a fight.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't disappointed.

"Chichi…?" he said with some difficulty, finding that his mouth had trouble forming the word.

Chichi crossed her arms and scowled, sitting back slightly in the chair next to the bed.  "Well, I see you're up… finally."

Goku winced at the words, both at the reprimand in the sharp tones as well as the daggers they drove in the side of his head.

"Wha-what?"

Chichi smiled.  "Maybe this will help your memory," she said, holding up a small flask.

Goku groaned and let his head hit the pillow, suddenly remembering everything.

Chichi laughed slightly.  "Don't worry.  I'll let you have your hangover.  And then, after plenty of coffee, I'm going to train you."

Goku looked up suddenly, and then wished he hadn't.  "Wha—  Chichi, how are you going to…"

Chichi laughed again, shaking her head.  She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and Goku felt a cool cloth wiping the sweat from his face.  He closed his eyes in relief, yet he was still confused.

"I'm not going to train you in fighting, silly," Chichi said softly.  "That would just be stupid.  I'm going to teach you how to be depressed."

Goku still didn't understand, so decided not to answer her until she started making sense.

"Look," Chichi continued.  "You don't want to talk, or train, or even eat.  You know how to be the scary/pathetic depressed, but that's not how you get better.  Instead, you need a more effective depression.  And I'm going to teach you.  First, you start talking and complaining… a lot.  And then you go into manic moods of cleaning… or in your case it would be sparring.  You allow yourself a little cry time, a little anger time, and a little time listening to country or blues.  And then eventually you'll actually fess up to whatever's been bothering you, and you'll finally get over it.  Now, what could be simpler?"

"What could be simpler," Goku repeated dumbly after her, still clutching his head.  But he was thinking, _She__ knows how to be depressed because of me._

Chichi nodded, convinced that he really understood what she was saying, and perhaps coming around.  "So," she continued, "you stay in the bed and moan for a little while, and when you feel like getting up, I've got breakfast made."

Chichi left the room, closing off the light from the hallway that was threatening to split Goku's eyes open.

_She mentioned sparring.  She thinks that's going to make me feel better.  Doesn't she know that whenever I fight, people get hurt?  She should know that._

Goku tried to concentrate on getting the headache to go away.__

_I'll just play along with her.  It's always easier when I play along with her._

*****

Danton smacked the side of the dragon radar, trying to get a good location on the dragonball.  He was surprised at how little cajoling it had taken to get the radar away from Pan.  She wasn't as insistent as usual.

Probably because of the thing with her grandfather.

The Sons had tried to conceal it from everyone, but Danton had known right when he saw the eldest Son that Goku-san was lit.  He'd been to enough parties to be able to tell.

Legendary hero, huh?  Not from what I've seen.  There're all these big stories, but none of them even happened in my lifetime.  How could he be so great if he didn't even, like, kill the leech?  He's not even training, from what I hear!

Danton looked around at the others.  Perhaps he was just jealous of being so frickin' normal.  Saiyans and super-strong monks and freaky double-personality girls… oh my!  And here Danton was, a bit stronger than Joe Normal, but not up to even, say, Pecon and Darjili.

Danton knew all about the former heroes.  If Pecon compared himself with Krillen, Danton knew exactly who he would be: Yamcha.  Sure, he never had the former desert bandit thing going for him, but he figured that he would be just as useful in a fight.

Danton could picture himself, charging at the leech, and getting a hand right through the chest.  Never mind that all the other Spider Students would probably get that, too.

No, they wouldn't.  Just him.  They would all have the sense to just stay back, or the luck to simply get blown away by energy attacks, leaving the way clear for the real heroes.  He, on the other hand, would be the guy with the big bleeding chest wound that would have to have a senzu bean and then be told to stay behind when the action heated up.

And he hated being that guy.

"You're leading us back to the dojo!" Krianan shouted behind him.

Danton glared back at her.  "I'm going in the general direction of the dojo, since that's where the radar is pointing me.  That's not the same thing as just going back to the dojo."

Krianan glared right back at him.  "Fine, whatever."

Danton grinned.  Now, there was a girl he could actually relate to.  She wasn't the hero type.  She was more like him, the one with few super powers and likely to get into trouble.  She was the one who pretty much fouled up the whole bank robbery thing, even if she did get out of there with the dragonball.  She'd been taken down by a dart from an assassin who would fall over if a Saiyan sneezed at him.  She was like him, with something to prove and no chance of proving it because it probably wasn't there.

If only they didn't fight so much.

Danton looked around at the area nervously.  Sure enough, they were getting closer and closer to the dojo.  They were already heading toward the right city, and on the same side that the dojo happened to be.  He couldn't imagine if it really was at the dojo.  Surely they would have known before then.

Maybe Goten-sensei kept it in the house?  I mean, his dad kept up with some, so why not him?

Danton prayed that he wasn't screwing up in some way.  Like, holding the radar upside-down or something.  He'd made fun of Pan for doing the same thing.  But, no…  It was right-side-up.  Danton hit it again, just to be sure.  The dot was still there, and they were getting closer to it just as they were getting closer to the dojo.

"You know," Darjili commented, "we're going to feel really stupid if Jita-sensei had the thing in the house all the time."

"If it is, we're doomed," Pecon quipped.  "That place is a mess!  Not even a dragon radar would help us."

"Hey!" Darjili shouted.  "I'm the one doing the housekeeping now."

Pecon grinned at her.  "Don't you think I know that?"

Darjili tackled him in the air with a growl.  "I don't see you helping with clean-up!"

Pecon broke her grip and flew a little ways from her.  "I cook, okay?  Isn't that enough?"

"Guys…" Pan said slowly.  "I think we're idiots."

Sure enough, they were landing in the yard of the dojo.  There was no ki around except for a faint reading from the dragonball… in the dojo.

Danton shook his head.  "This can't be right.  We all would have noticed it before.  We know every inch of that place."

Darjili shrugged her shoulders.  "Well, nothing else to do but to go in and see.  Who knows?  It may be in Jita's desk or something."

The five approached the dark dojo.  Pecon unlocked it, and Danton led them into the building, watching the bleeping instrument the whole time.  They passed by Jita's office… and then the main rooms… and then the private gravity trainers… until they got to the main gravity trainer.  The radar centered around there.

"Impossible," Pecon said under his breath.

The five walked in, and Krianan flipped on the lights.  As usual, the floor was bare, except for a few spare weights and sundry pieces of clothing.  They ventured into the middle of the room… and then the room went dark.

Danton instantly threw up his defenses.  He felt the whooshing of air, so he dropped to the floor and pushed down his ki to make him seem unconscious, a trick he'd learned from Jita.  He heard the others fall around him, with grunts of pain and surprise.  He couldn't even hear the punches.

After a moment, all was silent.  Danton's mind remained blank, only focusing on the slow footsteps at it neared him.  He figured this was some foe after the dragon radar, or the dragonballs.  He didn't have the dragonballs, but whoever this person was certainly knew he had the radar.  Danton held his breath and kept his ki low, waiting patiently for the enemy to get near him.  He couldn't feel the enemy's ki, and he couldn't see in the total dark, but he kept alert to the sound.

When he felt the boot right beside his legs, he kicked out, effectively tripping the enemy up.  Danton only had a fraction of a second before the enemy could hope to regain his feet, so he used the time to throw himself on top of the prone figure.  He immobilized the man's legs with his own while he found the arms to hold behind the man's back.  This would keep the man down, intimidated, until Danton could find out who he was and what he wanted.

It would have worked perfectly, if it wasn't for the fact that the man below him was much stronger than he anticipated.

The figure bucked him off, turned around while Danton was still trying to get his bearings, and punched him into the wall across the room.  Danton groaned, finding it easier to just lay where he landed instead of trying to get up.

"That was pathetic," he heard a familiar voice say.

The lights flicked on as suddenly as they had flicked off.  Danton squinted in the sudden brightness to see all of the Spider students laying on the floor in pain… and Vegeta by the light switch, holding a dragonball.  Danton groaned, letting his head fall back.

Pan was the first to force herself up.  "So, is this payback or something?"

Vegeta smirked.  "You could call it that."

Darjili pulled herself into a sitting position, still wincing at the lingering pain in her hands.  "Well, you've made your point, then.  We're still no match for anyone."

Vegeta shook his head, still smirking.  "I could be telling you that you're all pathetically weak compared to me… and the enemy we'll be facing.  I'm right in saying that.  Only the boy holding his imprint in the wall had any sense about him in the fight, and he still underestimated an enemy he knew nothing about."

Danton looked up, surprised.  Vegeta had almost… complimented… him.  Of course, it was a compliment couched in both insult and reality, but still.  Danton forced himself up, realizing that he had been the only one to get an attack in on Vegeta.

"But that isn't what you wanted to tell us, was it?" Pecon asked.

Vegeta laughed and shook his head.  He wordlessly held up a newspaper.  The front page featured a picture of the rubble where a certain bank used to be.

"Now, which one of you pathetic humans blew up a bank?" he asked with a snicker.

Everyone looked sheepish, not expecting this turn of events.  Finally Darjili tentatively raised her hand.  "It was an accident?"

Vegeta laughed at that.  "Not that I'm blaming you.  I feel that a good explosion every now and then is therapeutic.  It's just that when the woman found out what was blown up and what was stolen, she felt somehow obligated to cover for you, and it's generally made the house a living hell lately.  Not to mention the incident on page 5… assault on a child, I believe?"

By this time everyone was in fits of silent laughter.  The final comment topped it off, and the five students were rolling.

Vegeta rolled his eyes.  "You'll think funny after I'm finished with you.  For now I will be taking over the Spider school, and you're all under my watch."

They collected themselves, knowing that retribution was at hand.

"So you're babysitting us, is that right?" Danton asked.  "Did Bulma-san put you up to it?"

Vegeta snorted.  "Do you think I only do anything because the woman orders me around?  Wrong.  I'm doing this mostly for Jita."

Everyone sobered instantly.  A tense feeling filled the air.

Vegeta noted the change with approval.  "Jita had hopes for you.  Whether I think they're ill-placed or not is not of concern.  I would not want her to ever chance to see you and be disappointed.  Keep that in mind as you're training."

The five looked at each other in silent agreement.  Danton was the first to stand forward, giving the dragon radar to Vegeta and heading for the locker room to change.  He heard the others acquiesce, but did not turn back to see them.

Danton was actually relieved for this mockery of a training exercise to be over.  After all, what had they learned anyway?

Review thanks:

Crazed fanatic anime fan:  Wow.  You read all the way from chapter 23?  That, like, includes all of my long chapters.  I thank you for the profuse praise.  Actually, you like the two characters that have given me the most trouble!  I guess that makes me concentrate on them more.  Anyway, thank you for your readership.

Dark Wolf:  Points for using the word splindifferous, by the way.  Anyway, I hope to have more time to update this summer, though I think I said that lost summer.  Haha.

Howler:  Hi, sweetie!  I'm glad you review my chapters now… when you get the time to read them.  Haha.  And you know me with keeping up with the plots.  I'm rather a perfectionist.  Love you!

Demonman21:  Another new reader… in the 41st chapter, even!  Yeah, I had to explain away that quarantine thing in order to prolong the angst, which I love so much.  I hope it doesn't come off as too contrived.  And I'm pretty sure that Jita is completely free from the Voice.  He was able to talk to Jita because he owned her soul.  Now he doesn't.

Homestar Runner:  Wow!  You have the same author page as tim333.  Anyway, this is Str… I mean, this is UnromanticPoetess.  I appreciate your review, and I have decided to let you join the Biggest Idiot in the World club.  I fact… (snicker)… I want to make you the frickin' president!  So send a one million word essay on why you're such an idiot to UnromanticPoetess, in care of Strong Bad, and then you'll be the president!  And don't post any of Strong Sad's depressing poetry in tim's account.  Although a fanfic with the Teen Girl Squad might be pretty cool.  That, and how cool Strong Bad is.  In fact, that's all that tim should write.  One long fic about how awesome Strong Bad is.  And no giving up in the middle either!  Then… you could write a sequel, and… The Cheat!  What are you doing?  I thought I told you to watch for when Poetess gets back!  What?  Umm… Well, until next time, keep sending me all your e-mails… I mean reviews…

(Seriously, tim, that had me cracking up in the middle of the computer lab.  I love the effort you put into it.  It made me smile.)

Poll:  No, there's not a reviewer named Poll.  I'm asking this of all my readers.  I agonized over taking Goku this far.  I realize that drinking is kind of cliché.  I hope it was understated enough.  Anyway, I just want to ask everyone if you thought it was believable.  Thanks.


	43. Loyalties

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**: Well, summer vacation is here. The bad news is… I cannot downlo ahem BORROW anime from my computer. I am also not at as much liberty to browse fanfiction with this dial-up connection. The good news is… I can now scrounge up enough time to write. Isn't that amazing? I can actually finish this story this summer… if I don't slack off too much. Anyway, I apologize for the mucho typos that has been pointed out to me in the last few chapters. By the time I finished each chapter I just didn't want to edit. I'll probably go back and fix them. Or maybe I'll wait until I finish this story. As you can tell, it's heading toward the finale. But enough stalling. On with the show.

**Chapter 42: Loyalties**

Goten turned the dagger over in his hand, twirling it, catching the light ever so slightly, which shone a pale red in the blade.

Goten looked again at the sky. He still didn't understand where the light came from. There was no sun on the planet – no real source of light. There was a time of dimness on the planet, but it only lasted for around two hours. It just didn't seem natural, not when he'd felt so tied in with the natural rhythms of Earth. Goten wondered if his father had felt the same way, having lived even closer to nature for so long.

Goten shook his head violently, trying to clear his mind. He'd been meditating with the dagger for hours now, and he was getting restless. Pikkon had said that he would have to master the dagger… whatever that meant.

Goten had glibly told him that he'd never been trained in fighting with blades, but Pikkon had given him that look – the one that made Goten feel like an idiot. Goten had no trouble believing that Pikkon was thousands of years old. Everything spoke of wisdom and antiquity in Pikkon… including the stern looks.

"You aren't concentrating, Goten," a deep voice came from behind him, making him drop the knife in his lap. Goten recovered it carefully. Instead of feeling sheepish as he had been the first few times Pikkon had chastised him, he was bordering on frustration.

"What exactly am I looking for again?" Goten asked Pikkon in a tight voice, without even looking at him.

Pikkon sighed. "I've already told you. You'll know it when it happens."

Goten began flipping the knife in the air, seeing how many times he could flip it and still catch it by the handle. He knew how much Pikkon hated for him to treat the ancient relic so lightly. "You didn't use this dagger when you fought leeches. You didn't even have it. And how many leeches have you killed again?"

Pikkon crossed his arms. "Thirty-seven. But one killed me. One is all it takes. And I kill those leeches by first killing their disciples. I believe we've already ruled out that course of action."

Goten clenched the handle of the dagger grimly. "Tell me, Pikkon. Did you ever have to tell the parents of those children what became of their son or daughter?"

Pikkon stood over Goten, looking down on him. "Often there would be no parents. Either killed by the leech… or even the child. Certainly by the time I got there the child had already had time to kill enough." Pikkon's gaze hardened slightly. "Sometimes people are beyond hope, even children."

Goten glared right back up at Pikkon. While he respected the green alien, he didn't like him. Goten often challenged everything that Pikkon said, sometimes just for the sake of contradiction. He was impatient with Pikkon's sometimes smug wisdom.

Goten was about to stubbornly retort that no one was ever beyond hope, a belief he'd held his whole life, when the words stuck in his throat. He angrily looked away from Pikkon as images of Jita flowed once more before his vision.

It had been almost a year of training, and he still missed her so much it hurt. The thought of never being able to see her again paralyzed him in sorrow. It was getting more difficult to push his sorrow away. Of course, it never went away, but it ate up inside of him, just below the surface, taking away his sleep, his appetite, his very reason for living… or existing, as the case was. Even after he killed the leech and got his son back, all he could look forward to was an entire existence without Jita.

Jita wasn't just dead. Jita was more than dead. Jita was gone.

Goten noticed that Pikkon had walked away again, leaving him in his obvious misery. Goten was for once grateful to Pikkon.

Goten knew that he was being unnecessarily difficult, but he just couldn't help it. Everything irritated him. He couldn't stand the happiness of other people, or his own. It made him feel angry when he was hurting so much. He could only contrast the happiness of life with the torment he knew Jita was going through, and would always go through.

But even so, he still felt angry to be hurting. He was angry at himself… his father…

Jita…

Yes, he was angry at his wife. It was something he didn't like to admit, especially to himself. He loved Jita. Loved her more than life itself. But still… he couldn't help but feel that she had abandoned him. She had used and abandoned him, and he was alone with his feelings.

And it was really all her fault.

There was no way around that. What had happened to her she had brought on herself. She was the one that had sold her soul to a person who was obviously evil. She was the one who got involved with Goten and everyone else, even as she knew that she was a damned soul who would only cause heartache for the ones who grew to love her.

And she had left him alone.

Goten would be alone for the rest of his life… for the rest of his existence. It was something that he couldn't seem to come to grips with. Sure, he had Jiten, unless his son was dead, but eventually the boy would leave him for a wife or job… to build his own life. Just like Goten had when he'd dramatically cut ties with his family by going out alone in the wilderness. Just like his mother, he would have no one.

_Jita died and isn't coming back. Just like Dad did to my mother before I was born. She was alone for so long, and me and Gohan couldn't have been enough for her. I thought that we were at the time, but…_

He wiped away the burning from his eyes and fell back, leaving the dagger in the grass by his side. In the distance he could see several planes leaving for various part of the afterlife, souls going to their own version of heaven.

Goten's mouth quirked up in a sad smirk. _If I ever do go to heaven, it won't be heaven for me. Heaven was with Jita, always has been, always will be._

He took deep breaths, trying to come to grips with the rage in his heart that came whenever he got on that track of thought. It angered him that he could so easily compare his wife with the father that had caused him so much pain.

Goten swallowed back the bitterness and sat back up, holding the dagger in front of him once again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to turn himself completely inward.

For ten months Goten had trained in ways to harness and control his ki, making it difficult for a leech to steal his energy away. Pikkon had said it had taken him years to master the skill and attain endurance against a leech. Having had essentially a crash course in the skill, Goten wouldn't be able to attain the type of endurance that Pikkon possessed. The plan was that Goten would have to face the leech while it was still relatively weak, before it could draw much energy from other people, and then end the fight quickly. No real playing around. If he used the dagger he could break the link between the leech and Jiten, thereby preventing Jiten from becoming a leech afterwards. Fighting the leech was still a great risk, but Pikkon was fairly certain it would work. He was even more certain after he'd seen how well Goten had learned to guard his ki.

Goten had been greatly encouraged, but that was before he'd found out that that had been the easy part. Now he had about a month and a half to master the dagger, and it involved nothing of ki. To Goten's horror, it required mental strength.

He wasn't worried about intelligence, of course, since Goten was fairly intelligent, but this required psychic power to work with the magic of the blade. Pikkon had told Goten that he had the potential, since both Saiyans and humans had the potential to be fairly strong telepaths, but Goten had never had the practice. He knew that his father, Jita, Gohan, and Vegeta could all send and receive telepathically, and that Goku and Vegeta could read people's minds if they concentrated enough, but Goten had never had any practice at it. It wasn't until they were much older that Goten and Trunks had learned about that potential ability, and it had been hidden from them to keep them from getting into more trouble together.

Goten had to admit that he and Trunks would have conspired plenty of mischief together, and he would definitely have had lots of practice with the ability to speak telepathically, had the other Saiyans not been so cautious with it. Goten wasn't even sure if he was going to tell Jiten about the ability, knowing Jiten's propensity for trouble.

While never using his mental abilities in childhood had certainly kept him out of trouble, it was an inconvenience now. The others had developed their abilities during battle, out of sheer desperation and necessity, but there was no real dramatic incentive for Goten now. All he had was a deadline that was quickly creeping up and the pressure from it, making the job even more difficult.

He felt a hand close on his shoulder, jarring him out of his reverie. He whirled around with the dagger out of reflex when a green hand stopped his arm.

"Dammit, Pikkon, why do you have to sneak up on me?" he growled in frustration, not even looking up at his trainer.

"Your ki-sense has grown dull here or I wouldn't be able to sneak up on you," a deep voice growled back.

Goten's eyes widened. That was definitely not Pikkon

"Piccolo?" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here? You're not…" he trailed off.

Piccolo smirked and let go of Goten's arm. "Of course I'm not dead. But I was Kami, after all. I'm still allowed certain privileges. And I'd like to see anyone stop me from entering the Otherworld."

Goten smiled and relaxed. He was certainly glad to see a familiar face. "Give it a couple of months and you might have someone forcing you into the Otherworld," he said sardonically.

Piccolo smirked. "It seems that way. Are you progressing in your training?"

Goten's eyes widened, and he affected a wobbly smile. "Uh… kinda," he said brightly.

Piccolo lifted an eyeridge. "What is giving you trouble?"

_My wife is dead and in eternal torture, my son is in the clutches of my murderer, I'm being trained by a Piccolo-look-alike who's been dead so long that he doesn't even know what it means to be alive, I'm angry at everyone, and, oh yeah… I'm dead._ Goten's shoulders sagged as he bottled everything up and went for the most immediate problem. "It's this dagger. I'm supposed to master it or something, but Pikkon, my trainer, won't tell me how. He says it has something to do with telepathy, but I suck at that."

_Are you talking about this?_ Goten heard Piccolo's deep voice in his mind.

_Yeah_, Goten spat out, and then paused when he realized that he hadn't spat it out, or even moved his lips at all. He gave Piccolo a surprised look.

Piccolo merely gave him a knowing look. "It is much simpler when you don't think about it – when you don't try. Both Son and Gohan developed this during battle. Do you think they were putting real conscious thought into it at the time?"

Goten tried to use the telepathy again, but couldn't. "I guess not," he said finally.

Piccolo smirked and sat down in front of Goten, assuming his familiar meditation pose. "I'm not quite sure how Saiyan or human telepathy works, but from what I've seen I know you need to let it come naturally. And you can't let anything – any thoughts – distract you," he ended with a pointed look.

Goten looked away. He couldn't seem to be bitter with Piccolo like he could with Pikkon. "I know she's gone," he said in a small voice. "I'm trying to forget…"

"Don't," Piccolo interrupted him.

Goten looked up abruptly, confusion plainly written on his face. "What?"

Piccolo shook his head slowly. "You should never forget the ones close to you. The more you do, the less you feel, and the more you lose yourself. Jita wouldn't want that, and she certainly wouldn't want to be forgotten. You just have to use her memory, instead of letting it destroy you."

Goten shook his head. It was smart advice, but he felt like it couldn't help him. "I've tried it for months," he said slowly. "I've tried everything for months. Nothing helps." He took a breath. "Maybe when I'm alive again, and I have Jiten back… ah, who the hell am I kidding? It'll still hurt."

Piccolo captured Goten's gaze with his eyes. "Then maybe it's in your lot to suffer. But it's not your suffering that's causing you the most problems. It's your anger. You have to rein it in and achieve some sort of peace."

Telepathy…

Goten's eyes widened as he realized what had just happened. Piccolo was much more telepathic than he was. Did… did he read Goten's thoughts?

Goten's eyes then narrowed as he searched the Namek's face. As usual, Piccolo's face remained stony and impassive. After a moment, Goten laughed at himself. He doesn't have to read minds to tell what I'm going through. _I'm as spastic as an anime character… lately I've shown every emotion to everyone._

Piccolo, not being a complete mind-reader, didn't really know what was going on in Goten's mind… at least that's what Goten figured. So Piccolo seemed to think that Goten was making up his mind to continue his meditation with the dagger. Piccolo gestured to the dagger and gave a nod.

Goten nodded and straightened from his slouched position. Unfortunately, he also nicked his thumb with the point of the knife.

Cursing softly, he automatically brought his thumb up to his mouth. The blood touched his tongue, and suddenly he felt like a violent seizure had slammed into him, except he couldn't move. He was paralyzed in that position, thumb against his tongue, as visions more real than reality swept over him.

_"And what about any of your other family?"__ Sarah asked him, regarding him with cold eyes – cold eyes that he had failed to register at the time._

_"That's pretty much all," he'd said blithely. Then he smiled slightly. "You know I love you."_

_Sarah had grown older before him, into the Jita he knew. "Yes, I know. That makes you useful," she said, and turned to continue plucking the grass from the ground, one blade at a time._

_Chichi stood behind him, cutting his hair. "Are you sure you want this?"_

_Goten clenched the sides of the chair in the hot kitchen with both hands. He could feel the cold blades snap close to his ear. "I just don't want that little kid hair anymore. Besides, I look just like Dad."_

_Gohan looked up from across the table. "But what if Dad dies again? I can't take his place. I'm too busy studying." He beamed at Chichi, who absently tossed him a cookie. Gohan caught it with his mouth and showered crumbs all over his books._

_"Good boy, Gohan," Chichi said in a sugary voice. She gave one final snip and then a pat on Goten shoulder. "There. All done."_

_Goten looked at the mirror in front of him – one that took up almost the entire wall of the living room. He was now wearing a bowl cut, and donned Saiyan armor._

_"There. Now you look perfect," Chichi whispered in his ear._

_Goten smiled and kissed Jita, instantly tangling the sheets between them as they moved closer together. He felt rather than heard his name rumble in her throat as their bodies pressed flush with each other. The sheets and blankets around them felt oppressively hot and restrictive, so he threw the sheets to the foot of the bed._

_Suddenly he felt Jita stiffen against him. He pulled back in surprise, only to find her face drained of all blood and eyes dilated from panic._

_"What the hell?..." she whispered, wriggling away from him. Then she screamed._

_As Goten covered his ears, he looked down. Instead of the expected state of undress, he was still wearing that armor._

_"You're just like them…" Jita said in a hysteric daze. "You're just like all of them…"_

_The two Trunks' sat across from each other in the inside __garden__ of __Capsule Corp__ with Goten slightly to the side next to the younger version. They were all drinking grapefruit juice._

_"I never thought about it," Mirai Trunks continued absently, "but I guess I am gay, since you are. After all, we're so much alike… except for the hair."_

_Chibi Trunks nodded thoughtfully. "But your hair is gayer. Except… I guess you should wear this." He handed Mirai a band for his forehead. Mirai gratefully stuck the thing in the middle of his forehead. "That's better," Chibi said with some satisfaction. "Don't you think so, Goten?"_

_Mirai looked at Goten curiously. "I never had a Goten. I had a Gohan, though, but he got kinda broken."_

_Chibi grinned. "You want to borrow mine? I've got tons of paperwork to do anyway." He lifted Goten by his shoulders and set him beside the waiting older version._

_Goten walked out of the dojo after teaching his middle class. Intent on getting something to drink, he was thoroughly surprised when Jita stomped across the yard, holding a blood-covered Jiten by the shoulder._

_"Look at what your child did!" Jita said furiously, and then squeezed Jiten's shoulder harder. "What do you have to say for yourself?" she demanded of the child._

_"Sorry, Mom," Jiten said perfunctorily, trying to wipe the blood off of his hands using his pants._

_Jita huffed, exasperated. "OK, I get a call from the principal, and this child was massacring the entire school, one by one. By the time I got there, the damage was done. Not a person left alive – not even the principal. Goten, we need to do something before it's too late. Plus, he ruined his clothes."_

_Jiten looked away. "They were pickin' on me. What was I supposed to do?"_

_Jita looked up at Goten. "Could you handle this, Goten? I just don't feel like it. And I have a class." Turning on her heel, she left Goten with his mass-murdering son._

_Goten trailed after his mother's skirt, determined not to get lost in the crowd. For once, Trunks was avoiding him and following after his father in an effort to impress. Gohan was talking animatedly to everyone around while absently scanning the crowd for any sign of his dead father._

_"Isn't this exciting?" Bulma commented to Chichi. "Goku back from the dead. Now we won't need Goku Jr. around to remind us of him."_

_"My name is Goten," Goten tried to say, but the words were muffled and seemed not to get past his lips._

_Chichi nodded in satisfaction. "Only for today though. This is a great set-up. He'll stay for a day, win me money, and leave. If I play my cards right, I won't even have to cook for him."_

_The two women laughed voluptuously._

_"There he is!" somebody shouted._

_From the parting crowd came the figure of Goku. He was walking stiffly, and had to pause every few seconds to rearrange the skin that was rotting off of his bones. His eyes were hollow sockets. Only his hair and his gi remained the same._

_Baba floated up behind him, shaking her head sadly. "Shouldn't have used the monkey's paw."_

_The zombie Goku suddenly turned to look at Goten, who was trying to hide behind his mother's leg. "Look, Chichi," he said in a dead slur. "There's a little me behind you."_

_Chichi smiled pleasantly and moved aside, pushing him gently forward. "Go on, Goten," she said quietly._

_Goku started to slump forward, shedding skin and body parts as he went._

Goten shook, holding the knife in a death grip, the blade near the hilt biting into his fingertips. The confused images and crazy ideas, all melded together in a kaleidoscope of pain, left him only guessing to the meaning. However, somehow, he really did understand.

These things had never happened.

These things had only happened in his mind, he realized in a flash of clarity between visions. They were a mesh of dreams and fears and plain weirdness, all going into…

"…my own stupidity…"

His father was not a zombie. His wife was not afraid of him. His mother had never forced him to be anything.

And the Trunks thing was just a weird dream.

He didn't have to gain control of the dagger. The dagger was just a sharp melding of metal and wood. It had not killed him. The leech had.

And there was no way to gain control of substance. All he could master was…

"…myself…"

Goten forced his mind into the magical essence of the blade, pushing aside the nightmares and visions. Those were only illusions anyway.

"Show me something real!"

_Jita stood in the shreds of her gi, the white pallor of her skin interrupted only by the purpling bruises and the angry red streaks of fresh blood. But even through her grotesquely wounded appearance, she looked beautiful._

_Now able to use his arms, Goten quickly scooped Jita into his arms for an embrace. _

_"How touching," the Voice tried to say in a mocking tone, but His voice was too ragged. He was starting to sound more like the demon that He actually was._

_Goten rolled his eyes. "Isn't it time we left? I've had just about enough of Him."_

_Goku folded his arms, his eyes shadowed. "I agree."_

_Jita pulled away from Goten and smiled into his eyes. Keeping one hand on Goten's arm, Jita put her other on Vegeta's arm, seeming to draw reassurance from both. With a look that eerily resembled an apology, she jolted her energy through both of them, rendering them unconscious._

_But Goten could still see, his perceptions drawing to the side._

_Goku stepped back a bit, stammering, "B-but… what?__ What are you doing?"_

_Jita smiled at him, one of the few times she'd actually smiled at him. "Kakarrot, I cannot leave here."_

_He scratched the back of his head. "The Lord of the Lower Realms isn't stopping you. From what I've seen, you're beyond His power."_

_Jita shook her head. "It sure seems that way, doesn't it. I don't blame you for not seeing it, Kakarrot. After so many years, I've just now understood. He's… manipulating me. I'm doing exactly what He wants. Otherwise, I wouldn't even be coherent at the moment."_

_Goku's gaze hardened. "Jita, why do you need to stay?"_

_Jita glanced hatefully over at her Master. "Because if I set one foot beyond that seal, well, pardon the triteness of the expression, but all Hell will break loose. That seal is the only thing that's keeping the Voice at bay. If I cross it now, a second time… He wants to be free. He's using me." She lowered her head. "He's been using me all along."_

_Goku was speechless. Jita looked up at him and smiled again. "I… I did that to them because I didn't want them to see what I have to do next. I-I can't let them see me. They won't understand. But you…" Jita nodded to him. "You'll understand. The hero always understands fool self-sacrifice."_

_Goku ignored her comment. "You're going to stabilize the seal. You're – going to surrender yourself."_

_Jita nodded. "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just something that has to be done. Just – get them out of here. And don't tell anyone. Make up anything. Just nothing too heroic." Jita smirked. "Want to make it believable. It's just – I – don't want anyone to know."_

_Jita turned her back to Goku and walked slowly up to the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell. He sneered and backed away slightly. She kept walking until she was four feet away from the Demon and… _

_Her legs seemed to give out on her. She hit the floor hard, her neck bent and her eyes averted. She raised her hand submissively – palm-up. All her concentrated power flowed from her hand to the shocked master before her. After she had fully surrendered her ki, she tore down her mental barriers. Finally, she found her voice._

_"I pledge my will and loyalty to You, my lord."_

Goten found himself on the wet green grass of the familiar Kai planet, his hand clutching the handle of the dagger convulsively. He felt wetness on his face, and knew his tears were running unchecked. A few gasping breaths brought him into a semblance of control. He tried to pull himself off the ground, but found that he could barely move. And he heard voices.

"Is he awakening?"

"Yes. What did you do to him?"

"I did nothing. It was the knife. Apparently you haven't even cautioned him about the dangers of this dagger."

Two green forms slowly came clear before him, and Goten realized that Pikkon and Piccolo were talking, both looking quite irritated. The lighter voice of Pikkon seemed more indignant, while Piccolo's deeper voice was – well – the same as it always was, but with concern and anger roughening the edges.

"He is my pupil now," Pikkon's voice became stronger in Goten's ears. "I did not ask you to meddle with him. I was teaching him in my own way."

"You've never trained a Saiyan before," Piccolo answered in kind. "They don't do well with abstractions and vague instructions, even the smartest among them. They learn best by example or desperate situations. You can't just hand one a dagger and vaguely tell him to master it. They'd be using it as an eating utensil before anything else."

Goten finally got his voice back, and used it to laugh. "You've hit it on the head, Piccolo."

The two turned to look at him. Both pulled themselves straight and crossed their arms, and Goten couldn't help but laugh at the mirror imagery. "Are you well, Goten," Piccolo said abruptly.

Goten got up gingerly, the feeling in his limbs coming back slowly. "Yeah, I'm alright… I think. I – I think I've figured it out."

"You've mastered the blade?" Pikkon said in slight surprise.

Goten smiled faintly at Pikkon. "Yeah. That's it."

Pikkon nodded. "Very well. We will begin the final phase of the training tomorrow."

It seemed the Pikkon sensed that Goten needed to be alone for a minute, and Goten was glad to see him go.

"What did you see?" Piccolo asked him after Pikkon was well out of sight.

Goten shook his head a little and smiled. "Some of the weirdest stuff I've ever seen in my life… mostly nightmare stuff, with everything mixed up together. And then…"

Goten laughed a little. "I wasn't kidding when I said that I had mastered the blade. I have. I just had to know the truth, and it was revealed to me."

Piccolo stared at Goten, and Goten just stared back, not revealing anything that he had seen. He thought about it, but frankly it was none of the Namek's business. He just had to be alone and think, and remaining silent was the best way to make anyone give up and go away.

Piccolo, at that moment, must have been a mind-reader, because he actually did what Goten was screaming in his head. He left Goten alone.

Goten stared down at the blade, watching his own blood drip down the shallow gutter along the edge. Or was it the red light from the sky? Goten couldn't tell. His mind was too occupied with his most recent vision.

He didn't know what to feel, really. He knew that the vision was the truth. It even made sense. The only way Jita would still be down there is if she volunteered. Even the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell would have trouble actually making her do anything she didn't want to do.

Goten gritted his teeth. He knew it. Jita HAD abandoned him. He didn't care how childish it sounded. He didn't care about any blither about "noble sacrifices." When had a noble sacrifice ever done him any good? His father had nobly sacrificed himself and stayed away for seven years… and Goten had gotten the worst of that. He'd gotten knocked out and yelled at as a child just because Vegeta had nobly sacrificed himself. What did noble sacrifices do? They just made people hurt… and at the same time feel guilty about hurting, and then angry at the person who made them hurt.

You could call it noble sacrifice all you want, but Goten knew the truth. Jita had done the worst thing possible to him. She had made a conscious decision to leave. She had left him… for another man.

Goten wiped his eyes with his wrist, tempting fate by using the hand with the knife. He really didn't care if he slit his throat. If it would just end the pain… maybe he could just end his own existence. Would he simply disappear? Or would he join Jita in the lower realms? Was it worth it to find out?

Goten again stared at the blade, remembering the man who had "given" him the blade. He tried to remember the man's every feature… the rage that he had felt when the leech killed Jita.

All he could see was the little boy in the leech's grasp.

It made him sick to think about what Jiten was going through at the time. Half the time Goten even forgot about the kid. That was unforgivable. But it was true.

Was Goten thinking about Jiten when he plunged himself into hell after Jita? No. He wasn't thinking of what would happen to the boy if he found out that not only were both of his parents dead, but also irretrievable. Did Goten even wait around to see if Jiten was going to be joining him in the Afterlife? No. Goten didn't even think of the boy. He just ran blindly after his wife.

_How would Jiten react if he knew that? What would Jiten think of me? What if he knew that I was just sitting here, relying on what people told me, instead of trying everything beyond my power to rescue him as soon as possible from a murdering kidnapper?_

_Am I not abandoning him?_

_And what had Jita thought about when she sacrificed herself? She sure didn't think of the universe as a whole. What has she ever done that? It's not in her nature. What if… she was sacrificing herself… for Jiten…_

_…and for me…_

Goten tried to hold on to the picture that had filled him with rage – the one where his father and his wife had talked almost smugly of heroic sacrifices. The two who had thrown him by the wayside for their own quests and fights. He tried. But he just couldn't seem to gain back the rage.

Goten closed his eyes, picturing Jita's sacrifice once more in his head. Playing over it were the angry words he'd said to every person since then, starting with his father. He seemed to turn away in shame. "She was better than I ever was," he whispered.

Jita woke up slowly and got up and stretched even slower. There was just something about the Kai's world that made someone want to forever be lazy. The kais could easily materialize food and clothing, so that was never a problem. It never precipitated, and it was always a balmy 75 degrees. She never had to cook or teach any classes, and she could easily keep away from the pervert.

Best was, the Voice never bothered her. She had her soul back. She was free from him, forever.

All this went through Jita's head whenever she woke up, from the first day until that morning, months later. She always got up before anyone else so that she could go to the lake and bathe without worry. She never had to wash her clothes, since Shin could just materialize her more clothes just as easy. Since it was a bother telling Shin what she wanted to wear, she had taken to wearing the same variation on the kai outfit every day: with the tunic sans poofy or bulky shoulders and without the skirt part.

Jita went down to the lake, undressed, and stretched leisurely in the water. It was temperate – not too hot and not too cold. Just the perfect water for swimming or bathing or whatever. It was so clean that it seemed to magically clean her, even without soap. On Earth, and even before then, Jita had bathed efficiently in showers, never lingering and most of the time taking within five minutes. Now the time sometimes stretched into half an hour. After washing off, she floated on her back and closed her eyes, enjoying the good feeling of everything…

…until a faint chuckle reached her sensitive hearing.

In movements that were too quick for anyone but the strongest of Saiyan, Jita was out of the water, dried, clothed, and now directly behind a certain old kai.

"Where did she go?" Rou Dai Kaio-shin muttered in confusion. Slowly, as his senses kicked in, he became aware of a very angry presence behind him. Gulping, he turned to face the Saiyan woman.

Jita merely smirked at his fear and gave him enough of a stare-down to tell him that she was on to him, and flew off. She wasn't even upset about it any more. There was nothing the kai could do to her, and it was never in malicious intent. Besides, she'd made peace with her past.

And she'd be free of him in just a couple of months anyway.

Jita was pleased to find that her clothing had already been changed out and the smell of breakfast was in the air. She wandered over to Shin, who was absently materializing the rest of her food while reading a book. She had inadvertently gotten him hooked on Earth literature when requesting some books to read when she got bored, so he had decided to read every single piece of literature from Earth. He had finished Hemingway the day before, and now he halfway through a collection of H. G. Wells. Even though she tried to direct his readings in a logical order, he rarely paid attention and continued to read in a haphazard order. She supposed he would be reading _I Ching_ or _The Canterbury Tales_ next.

"Are the Martians using their Heat-Ray now?" Jita asked casually as she sat to her meal.

Shin didn't take his eyes off the book. "The Time Traveler just saved Weena."

"Just never watch the movie of that," Jita said between mouthfuls. "It sucked."

Within ten minutes the meal had been decimated and the Time Traveler had gotten the time machine back from the Morlocks. Before Shin had a chance to start on _The Island of Dr. Moreau_, Jita decided to grab his attention.

"Have you figured out anything on why I can't access my transformation? Or have you been too preoccupied with Earth lit."

Shin raised his eyes from the volume and frowned. "I do not just hold the title of god. I can think of more than one thing at once."

Jita crossed her arms. "So what have you come up with, oh Great and Mighty Kai?"

Shin put a bookmark in his book, realizing that this was Jita's way of saying she was ready to get down to business. "I still think that the best way is recreating the emotional state of your two previous transformations."

Jita's head fell in frustration. "Shin, we've already tried that. It doesn't work. It just leaves me exhausted, frustrated, and emotionally spent. Plus it takes a long time, and drawn-out transformations are not good for the battlefield, especially around someone who doesn't wait around. Transformation time is really vulnerable."

Shin looked at her with a blank face. "I don't know what else to do, Jita. Your ability is somewhat unique, as in you're the only person dead or alive who has it. I'm just following the logical course for any transformation."

Jita folded her arms tighter and glared.

Shin smiled slightly. "How about this? We'll try my way once more, and if it still doesn't work we can brainstorm another way. I've thought of some new ways to inspire you anyway."

Jita sighed, admitting momentary defeat. "All right. Let's just get this over with."

Jita walked to a remarkably unblemished patch of grass and stood, holding her limbs loose and yet at attention – her preferred fighting pose. It was better than those ridiculous artistic-looking poses that some of the humans used. That was her fighting style: no pretensions.

"You've done this twice before," Shin's voice slid into her hearing, a contrast to what visions were playing in her mind. Her room at the royal palace on Planet Vegeta… the familiar depths in the Lower Realms of Hell…

"What were you feeling then? Forget Saiyan stoicism and just be honest."

Fear… anger… desperation…

"Good. Now we begin."

Jita sucked in breath as the familiar visions exploded before her eyes. Again Frieza's ball of energy was burning through her planet. Again the Voice was laughing at her, pushing her to her limits.

But it just didn't bother her anymore. She was at peace with all that.

Now she saw her husband stabbed through the chest. Now she saw her son being held by the killer.

But it couldn't seem to reach her. She knew Goten was alright, and she knew Jiten would be alright.

Again the visions pushed, and again she pushed at her own boundaries, but to no avail. She couldn't bring herself to feel like she had all her life. It just was not forthcoming.

Finally, after several hours, they both gave up at once, and collapsed gasping on the ground.

Regaining her breath first, Jita pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Got any more bright ideas, kai?" she asked wryly.

Shin pushed himself up. "I don't understand. The Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell was able to push you. Why not me?"

Jita smiled. "If you really want to know, it's this place. It's just too peaceful here. I feel like I'm stuck in a pastoral poem. All we need are swains."

"But with the visions…"

"I've lived half my life with visions," Jita cut him off. "They pretty much have no effect on me. I know what's real and what's not, and no matter how realistic you make them, I still distance myself."

Shin slumped in tired exasperation. "Well… stop it."

Jita laughed. "Can't. Too well balanced. Anything else?"

A high-pitched, dry cackle interrupted them. Knowing it was the old man reading his manga (mostly stuff that Jita would never let Jiten touch), she tried to ignore it.

Shin, however, seemed to have other plans. "You know, Jita," he began, "my honored elder does have a wealth of knowledge to which I have never had access."

"That's nice," Jita said blandly, staring at him in challenge.

Shin cleared his throat. "Well, he might know something about…"

Jita rolled her eyes. "Are we already at last resort time?" she asked plaintively.

Shin looked in the direction of the laughing man. "I'm afraid so."

In unison, the two rose from the ground and walked slowly toward Rou Dai Kaio-shin, walking as if they wanted to put meeting him off as long as they could. It was no use. It was a small planet, and the old man was not that far away. Too soon they were facing him. Jita tried to ignore the numerous copies of manga featuring winking cat girls and scowled.

"Honored Elder," Shin said abruptly as the old kai was turning a page.

"Eh?" Rou Dai Kaio-shin said irritably, raising his head from the manga. "What's up, young 'un? Got finished with those boring books and want to read one of mine?" The old kai kept Jita in the corner of his eye, making sure she wouldn't take the opportunity to hit him with anything.

"Uh, no, Honored Elder," Shin said nervously. "I have come seeking advice."

Jita noted again the change in Shin whenever he addressed his "Honored Elder." He was far from the god who had stalked into the Lower Realms and faced off with the Voice. Around the old kai he was always nervous and stuttering, always saying stupid things. It was like an adult around his or her mother. It was always just so awkward.

Rou Dai Kaio-shin didn't make it any easier either. "Advice? The Supreme Kai, the one who sealed the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell, needs advice? What brought this on?"

Shin winced. The older kai had offered his advice on the very first day of training, but Jita had still been uncomfortable around him, so Shin had put him off. Now he was going to rub it in his face, it seemed.

After a breath, Shin continued. "Honored Elder, we are having difficulty with Jita's transformation, and…"

"… and you'd like for me to tell you what to do or do it myself, is that it?" the older kai cut in.

"Would you rather a leech come into power?" Jita said coolly.

Rou Dai Kaio-shin raised an eyebrow, considering this. He'd lived through enough leeches, but leech-slaying had become a lost art with the supposed extinction of the species. And this leech would have access to the most powerful beings in the universe. Of course he didn't want that. Jita could practically see him thinking all this through. She was sure that he was going to say yes.

"What's in it for me?" the elder kai said unexpectedly.

Shin looked taken aback. "Well, I can't think of anything to give you that you can't just materialize…"

Jita fixed the old kai in an angry stare, and her voice was smooth and dangerous. "You get to not have me kill you, kai."

Rou Dai Kaio-shin shook his head and grinned. "A-ah. You don't get to me that easily. Even if you could kill me, then where would you be? Doing mental exercises with boy wonder and getting nowhere?"

Shin looked slightly affronted at the reference to him, but said nothing.

Jita threw up her hands in frustration. "Fine! What do you want, kai? You have all the manga and porn you need, and that seems to be the only thing that makes you happy!"

The old kai stood up, toeing aside said manga and porn. "Why should I tell you? The last time I helped an Earthling I was promised something in return and I didn't get it. So why should I even help you?" He stuck his tongue out at her and turned his back.

Jita couldn't help but see in the old kai every recalcitrant child to ever attempt to study in her dojo. She decided to try to reason with him like she – or, alright, Goten – would reason with any child.

"If you'll tell me what the Earthling promised, then maybe I can fulfill that promise," Jita said calmly, entirely missing the warning gestures Shin was giving her.

"Really?" Rou Dai Kaio-shin said, looking back at her over his shoulder.

Jita tried a smile. "Really."

Shin threw his arms up in the air, giving up the battle. Jita could take care of herself, anyway.

The old kai turned around fully and gave her a calculating look. "Because I do know how to help you with that transformation. You've been going about it all wrong. So will you fulfill that promise?"

"What is it?" Jita asked.

"Will you fulfill it?" the old kai demanded again.

Jita rolled her eyes. "Yes! Now what is it already?"

The old kai cackled. "Everybody heard her! She can't deny it. I'm holding you to enforce it, young 'un."

"Honored Elder, this isn't what I'm thinking about, is it?" Shin asked in exasperation. Really, Jita was on to something with comparing him with a child.

"Will someone tell me what it is already?" Jita asked impatiently.

Rou Dai Kaio-shin grinned triumphantly. "A little over twenty years ago I helped a young demi-Saiyan become a Mystic. Went by the name of Gohan. It was to help fight Buu, but I still wouldn't do it for free. Who was I to play the hero? The boy's father promised me a kiss from a certain Earth woman named Bulma. I never got it. She's probably gotten too old anyway, but you're still young, and you're from Earth, and…"

The air became charged around Jita as she inadvertently powered up. "You do realize that Bulma is my brother's wife, don't you?"

The kai thought for a moment. "Yeah, it did seem like that short Saiyan was a little upset when he found out what Goku promised…"

"And you realize that you are the most disgusting thing to ever slide through this reality, don't you?"

"That's off the subject, gorgeous," Rou Dai Kaio-shin said, still grinning.

"You call me that again and I'll kill you," came Jita's quick reply.

The old kai smirked. "Again, you and boy wonder."

Jita's eyes widened. She looked like she was going to press the subject, but then she suddenly stalked off, leaving the two kais alone. Shin looked defeated and nervous. The old kai looked triumphant and excited.

After a few moments Jita walked back, looking very much like her brother – full of pride and anger. The old kai almost backed off, but he felt he had to stand his ground. He wasn't going to do something for nothing again, not when a nominally pretty and definitely young girl had been living on the lonely planet for the past several months.

But still, he was nervous as she steadily advanced on him, ignoring all else. What happened next happened so fast that no one, not even Shin, could tell what had happened.

Rou Dai Kaoi-shin was on the ground, rubbing his purpling cheek. Jita was glaring frankly at him. "Now give me my training," she demanded with a hint of disgust in her voice.

The elder kai took a moment to collect himself, and then began laughing triumphantly. "WOW! What a kisser!! I'll show you whatever you want!"

Jita held her hand up, looking even more disgusted. "Just the training… in my transformation," she clarified quickly.

"W-what just happened?" Shin asked unsteadily.

Jita looked at him frankly. "Promise fulfilled, but on my terms. Remind me to kill Kakarrot if I ever see him again."

Rou Dai Kaio-shin laughed. "All right. Down to business. And, believe me, you're going to transform and transform back before the day is out."

"I'm ready," Jita said belligerently.

The old kai's smile dropped. Now he really was down to business. "Step over there where you usually do this," he ordered.

Jita cocked her head and then shrugged as she walked to the same patch of grass that she'd claimed as her training ground. The two kais followed her. "Now what?"

"Relax," the old kai said, "and don't think at all. Which shouldn't be such a stretch for you."

Jita glared at the man, but complied. She fell into the familiar relaxed training pose, eyes open and steady, and blanked her mind just like any other meditation. She'd almost been expecting more visions, but none were forthcoming.

"Now," the kai continued, "you already have a sort of connection with nature in drawing its life energy for ki. Do that to yourself."

If Jita had even been thinking, she would have been struck by the stark simplicity of the instruction. But she wasn't thinking. She had gone into the state of mind that is so natural for Saiyans. All time in the present and the immediate future. Nothing there but your body, your opponent, and the battlefield. Nothing to do but experience and react and anticipate. But she wasn't fighting. This was something slightly different, but just as natural.

Just when she felt a flicker, she pulled back.

Rou Dai Kaio-shin's face fell. "What did you stop for? You were doing it?"

"She was?!" Shin exclaimed. "You succeeded?!"

Jita acknowledged him with a nod. "Yes, I was doing it. And now I know how to do it. There is no need to do the full transformation."

"But what if you can't go all the way?" the old kai yelled.

Jita looked at him frankly. "When and if I need it, I'll be desperate enough that I will be sure to transform. But I won't now. It's a last resort anyway."

"Why is that?" Shin asked, completely mystified.

Jita gritted her teeth. "You know the nature of the transformation. If I go in, I may never come back out. I'm not going to risk it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some real training done. This planet is making me lazy."

Rou Dai Kaio-shin threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why do I ever put up with you Saiyans? You're nothing but trouble!"

Shin was left alone by the two others. He certainly was troubled. He would have to find a way to convince Jita that she could come back and get rid of her inhibitions about using the transformation – quite possibly the only thing that could stand against the leech – before it was too late.

Jiten pressed himself against a large boulder in the extra-dimensional forest, stilling his breathing and reaching out with his senses. Not the senses that his parents told him to use, but a sort of extra sense that seemed to come from both without and within. Jiten didn't question, though. He just did.

He saw the other boulder crashing toward him and dodged up just in time, lashing out with a foot at the figure he already knew would be there. Jiten caught Hoja in the mouth, and then followed it up with a small blast to blow him back. As Hoja was flying back in the air, he threw a blast of his own straight for Jiten's head.

Jiten watched calmly as the blast cut toward him and concentrated his mind and energy. As Hoja had taught him, he kept his eyes open and focused on his opponent. His mind and senses were going everywhere at once, and he felt in control of everything.

The blast failed to hit. It wasn't that the aim was off or that Jiten dodged. Jiten stood his ground. But now the blast was seeping inside of him and he was incorporating it with his own ki, feeling the renewed strength and vigor. Jiten took a few calming breaths to come down from the high.

Hoja floated closer to Jiten and was pleased to note that Jiten was still at the ready for any attack. Hoja flew right up on Jiten, and the boy never even flinched. Hoja grinned.

"Very good, Jiten," the leech said proudly. "Your technique for absorbing energy blasts has become flawless."

Jiten smiled and then frowned. "No thanks to my mother," he said bitterly.

Hoja sighed and shook his head. "Let's just forget about her. I'm sorry that you've had to live in such horrible conditions, but it's time to put that behind you. In a few months, you can do whatever you want. No one can deter you from anything with what I've taught you."

Jiten nodded, but still looked a little worried. "Can we go over those moves again? I want to make sure I have that absorption thing down."

Hoja noticed the worried look, but decided not to press it. "Of course we can. Do you need to give some energy back?"

Jiten considered, but then shook his head. "Nah. I'm going to expend a little energy anyway, and I can handle plenty more."

Hoja grinned toothily as Jiten turned his back to walk away a bit. "Good."

Hoja waited until Jiten had disappeared and hidden himself, and then went after him. They'd played this game of Hide and Seek many times before. Hoja found it easier to teach Jiten with familiar games. Thankfully this was a common game around the universe, with very few variations. Hoja grinned at the principle of the game. Hunter and hunted. Just the sort of game that he could really get in to – that he could even live.

"Ready or not," the leech whispered as he sensed out the boy, first checking his previous hiding place. Of course, he didn't use that trick anymore. The boy was nothing if not inventive.

Hoja then put out feelers all around the forest, and even to the house. Jiten had once hidden in the house so that Hoja would have to get in close for an attack, not wanting to destroy the house. That time the boy had also cut off all his escape routes and left himself open for a close pummeling.

Hoja had never met any child like Jiten. Even children from the most warrior-like races tended to be reluctant and unpracticed at fighting. Jiten had come with outstanding strength and superb training, especially for his age, and a fierce love of fighting. He supposed it was a Saiyan trait.

_If there had been more Saiyans around during the leech's time of power, they would have made prime disciples, and would have probably become the only kind of leech out there. They live for the fight – would do anything for it. I've never seen anything quite like it… THERE!_

The leech let loose a blast to the lake, only to find that Jiten was already behind him. He turned just in time to block and counter a punch the boy had aimed right at his head. Hoja smirked, thinking the boy had fallen into routines. He had a mixed surprise when he felt the boy's small foot jab into his stomach, sending him flying to leave an imprint in the ground below. He quickly absorbed the ki blast that Jiten sent his way and then sent one of his own, putting more in there than Jiten had ever swallowed.

Hoja smiled as Jiten absorbed the energy with seeming ease. The boy floated down toward him fairly crackling with all the excess energy, keeping a calm expression on his face even though the leech knew that the energy was becoming too much for Jiten. Almost imperceptibly, Hoja absorbed back a little of the energy. Jiten slumped slightly in relief.

"You're going easy on me," Jiten grinned, mopping his bangs out of his face.

Hoja cocked an eyebrow, pulling himself out of the Hoja-shaped crater. "You really think so?"

"Well… yeah," Jiten said, rolling his eyes. "You've got to be stronger than this. I'm not even Super Saiyan yet and I'm a match for you."

Hoja couldn't miss Jiten's pronounced frown. This time he did not ignore it. "What is it, Jiten?"

Jiten folded his arms. "Why am I not a Super Saiyan? I'm strong enough."

Because your soul's not pure, child, Hoja felt like saying. But that would get him nowhere fast in consolidating loyalty.

"It's too soon," the leech answered. "Let it come naturally as you grow. It's not healthy to acquire too much power too fast."

"What are you talking about?" Jiten asked incredulously. "My dad became a Super Saiyan when he was at most seven. Trunks and Gohan were the same way."

Hoja regarded the boy patiently. "And how do any of those rank in power now? Both Gohan and Trunks reached their prime long ago and are now more interested in civilian life. Your father is extremely powerful, but has no clear conception of how to use that power. The Saiyans who developed their power more slowly are better fighters than those that just kept gaining power as quickly as possible."

Jiten looked sulkily thoughtful. "I guess I can see that."

Hoja put a reassuring hand on Jiten's shoulder. "Don't worry, Jiten. You'll transform soon enough. Right now with your absorption techniques you'll be able to take on any of the Super Saiyan. Plus, you're small and quick enough to make an extremely hard target."

Jiten smiled. "Hey, is it lunch time?"

Hoja laughed. "It can be, you bottomless pit. Race you!"

Jiten laughed and chased after. They both reached the house at the same time, so they quickly divided the work. Jiten always poured the drinks and got out the plates and napkins – work that was irksome when his mother compelled him to do it, but seemed fair and natural while living with Hoja.

Their meal was simple, sandwiches and chips, eaten over their usual mealtime banter. Jiten marveled at the closeness he felt to Hoja, like no one else in his life. Hoja expected, yet never pressured. Hoja instructed, but never scolded. Hoja sympathized without lecture.

And Hoja taught him how wrong his parents were.

Jiten realized that his parents were affected by something that defined most Saiyans: jealously. They were jealous of his potential and abilities. Hoja had explained everything, and Jiten had heard enough from others to know that enough of what Hoja said was true. Saiyans had sent babies off-world because of jealousy. Saiyans had been known to hide abilities from children because of jealousy. Jiten had certainly been surprised when Hoja had made him aware of his ability to speak telepathically and read people's minds. Jiten was as yet sporadic and untrained in such abilities, but he was getting better.

The voice inside his head had told him as much before, of course. But the Voice just never seemed as real as Hoja. Hoja was there to teach him and to play with him. Hoja had even thrown him a birthday party. Hoja was just too real and too nice to lie. The Voice had always gotten him in trouble, and seemed pleased when he did. Hoja would never do him like that.

"Well, it's only a few more months," the leech said absently. "Won't you be glad to get back into your own world?"

Jiten's brow furrowed. His own world, where he would again be trapped with his parents who would continue to control him and hold him back. He'd been thinking about that a lot lately. He'd long ago shed the image of his parents in wild joy at his homecoming. That was a little kid's dream, something he'd imagined months ago. Now he saw the bare naiveté of it and was ashamed that he'd confided it with Hoja. Instead he saw fierce punishment when he came back, and rather than scaring him, it annoyed him. What right did his parents have to punish him? It wasn't as if they were perfect anyway.

The thought of going back home had become unbearable.

"Um… Hoja?"

Hoja put down his glass. "What is it, Jiten?"

Jiten almost gave up on it right then and there, but the horrid thought of what he faced if he went home urged him on. "I… It's just… I really don't want to go home," he finished in a rush.

Hoja stared at him frankly. "Well, I certainly respect your decision, but what made you decide this? Where will you go? You must have a plan, Jiten?"

Jiten shifted uncomfortably. He didn't really want to tackle the question on why he wanted to stay away from home, for fear of any possibility of sounding whiny, but he had an idea about what he really wanted to do. He cleared his throat. "Well, in the past you've said that you used to take apprentices and train them. I – I thought I might ask you to take me."

Hoja went through a great show of considering. "Are you sure, Jiten? It's a lot of responsibility. You'll have to completely give yourself over to me and follow my every command… for any of my training to make any difference."

Jiten grinned. He wasn't turning him down. "I'm ready, Hoja. I could become your apprentice now. There's nothing stopping us."

Hoja nodded. "All right, I'll take you on."

Jiten jumped in the air with a loud whoop. He hadn't realized that it would be so easy.

"Alright," Hoja said laughing. "Calm down. There are a few ground rules."

Jiten came down and focused on Hoja, listening eagerly and intently.

Hoja smiled. "Since you are the apprentice, then I am the master. You will have to call me as such."

"Yes, Master," Jiten said eagerly.

Jiten didn't notice an imperceptible strand of energy between them, linking them.

"Next," Hoja continued, "you'll have to agree to learn and master all of my techniques. That'll be more of the same of what we've been doing, only far more difficult."

Jiten felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of more training, and therefore more fighting. "Yes, Master," the phrase rolled off his tongue.

A second thread linked them, just as imperceptible as the first.

"And finally, we'll have to share a mental bond," Hoja finished off with a satisfied gleam in his eye. "It's a bond of loyalty, and we'll be able to speak telepathically through it. If and when we do leave this dimension, it'll make communication much easier just in case we get separated."

Jiten almost hesitated at the thought of another voice in his head, but his doubts were easily assuaged just be looking at Hoja. This man would never bring him to harm. "Yes, Master," Jiten agreed finally.

A third thread joined with the other two, and Jiten was finally able to see it. He didn't panic, though. He finally heard Hoja's voice in his head, telling him that everything was going to be all right, and he believed him. The bond was calming and relaxing, and soon Jiten was dozing asleep.

As soon as the boy was asleep, the leech nearly whooped in glee. He began sending waves of hatred to the boy, making Jiten pull further from his family and his old Earth life. These waves would continue for some time, until Jiten actually hated everyone except for him.

_Then_, thought the leech, _I can tell Jiten about our battle against Earth, and all his former loved ones._ The leech smiled at the thought.

He looked at the sleeping boy. _And, finally, I can have a son of my own._

Thanks to all my reviewers:

**Dark Wolf**: Actually, it was a long and tedious chapter to write. But I had these chapters that I had barely developed, and I felt the poor Spider students were cheated. Plus, I really wanted that battle with Taopiepie. He really is an awesome character, and really done wrong in his cameo in the Cell Saga. Plus, I really enjoyed writing a battle between humans. I mean, it was so classic Dragonball. I sometimes get tired of the "power-up-transformation" battles of DBZ. It gets to be, like, what ridiculous transformation can the hero and the villain come up with. Ah, I know. Super Saiyan level 4! (ha-ha) Anyway, I enjoyed writing a battle that didn't involve a lot of flying and ki-blasts.

**Yorun**: Thanks for reading! Especially if you're liking the early chapters, which, as I've said before, really aren't as strong as the later chapters. Anyway, you asked me how they could have a picture of Kakarrot. Now, this is just me pulling an answer out of my butt, but I figure that Goku stayed on Planet Vegeta long enough to get at least one baby picture taken. I mean, he had obviously had a little time to grow before he was shipped off. And Raditz possibly had time to pick up a baby picture. Anyway, that's the assumption. Take it or leave it. And thanks for reading. Hope you make it up to this chapter.

**Crazed fanatic anime fan**: It's really hard not to make Goku pure good. That's what the show and Toriyama wants you to believe. But once you get a little past the surface, Goku is a mystifying character, and really compelling. The approach I usually take with him is remembering that he spent the first twelve years of his life with absolutely no contact with civilization, and therefore with limited experience in dealing with relationships and his own feelings. Anyway, enough of me rambling. I'm glad to have you as a reader. You give really good reviews. I look forward to hearing from you again.


	44. The 150 Reviewer Special: Group Therapy

**Soul 42.5: The 150 Review Special**

Why 150 reviews? Especially when I didn't do anything for 100 review, or the year anniversary? Because I want to, that's why!!

Dedicated to Dark Wolf.

The room was brightly colored, almost sickeningly so. Inspirational posters lined the walls, including the mood poster that featured different faces that looked like Bill Waterson's Calvin. Uncomfortable-yet-trendy chairs were set in a circle in the middle of the room, surrounding a coffee table with, surprising, coffee, along with bagels and cream danishes.

It was slowly getting to be 6:00, and people started filing in reluctantly, casting nervous glances toward each other. A sprightly young therapist sat at what looked impossibly like the head of the perfectly round circle of chairs.

When the last person completed the circle, the therapist giddily rang a little bell. It was a wonder she didn't immediately fall over dead from the glares she was receiving on all accounts.

"Oh, it's so wonderful all of you could make it. Since this is our first meeting, I'll get things started slowly. As you know, this is the Severely Depressed Anime/Fanfiction Characters Support Group. My name is Dr. Bunny, but you can call me Happy!"

Low growls could be heard from a few in the group.

"Now," she went on, completely oblivious to the sheer hatred of her that permeated the room, "I want you all to introduce yourselves. First tell your name, and what you like to be called. Then tell where you're from, and finally what brought you to this group. Like this: My name is Dr. Bunny, but you can call me Happy. I am from UnromanticPoetess's limited imagination, and I came to this group because you're all crazy and you need a therapist. Ok, now follow my example. We'll start with you," she pointed to the person beside her.

The teen adjusted his sword on his back and peered through the long purple hair covering his face. He looked like the master of brooding. "I…" he paused dramatically, "… am Trunks, though most of the people I know who happen to be living a happier life than I could ever dream call me Mirai because they can't take the brainpower to differentiate between me and the other Trunks who had the chance to grow up to live in a normal happy environment. I come from a future where the androids have destroyed everything and left only the rubble of civilization. I came here because I spend most of my time wallowing in the deepest of despair and I'm losing the ability to differentiate between my frequent depressing flashbacks and my equally depressing reality… and my mom told me I needed to get out of the house more. Um…" he looked around to see how everyone was staring at him, and then quickly hid his face behind his hair. "Thank you," he mumbled.

The other demi-Saiyan next to him rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Look, at least you still have your family."

Dr. Bunny looked over to him. "Well, Goten, it looks like you want to go next."

Goten heaved a sigh. "Fine, though I really need to be training right now. My name is Son Goten, and I've also been stuck with the stupid title The Spider Master. I am from UnromanticPoetess's depressing work "The Soul." I'm here because I have nothing better to do while the Poetess sits on her lazy duff and doesn't write. And I'm dead – see the halo? And my wife is in the Lower Realms of Hell never to return. And my son has been kidnapped by my murderer. And I hate my father."

Goku looked up from across the circle. "Hey, I thought you'd gotten over that!"

Goten glared back. "Hey, you can't just get over a lifetime of resentment. Besides, you're not supposed to know that yet. And it's not like you've gotten over your depression."

Goku stuck his bottom lip out. "It's a major plot point now."

Dr. Bunny felt herself losing control over the group, not to mention her smile. "Goku, why don't you introduce yourself now?"

Goku grinned. "Hi! I'm Goku. I'm…" he stopped, catching himself. His face suddenly slumped, his eyes deadened, and his voice dropped a few pitches. "My name is Goku. I'm from UnromanticPoetess's "The Soul," too."

Across the room, Krillen's head popped up. "She's made a sequel?"

Trunks snorted. "She'd have to finish this one first."

"All right!" Dr. Bunny shouted, then regained her cheery composure. "Goku, you may continue."

Goku cocked his head. "What was the question?"

Goten heaved a sigh. "Why are you here?!"

Goku glared. "Listen, Goten, if you don't want me here…"

Krillen put her hands up calmingly. "No, Goku, Goten was telling you the question."

"Oh!" Goku grinned, then caught himself again and sulked. "I'm here because I'm really depressed, and I'm not going to tell anyone why… and Chichi said I needed to get out of the house."

Dr. Bunny took a few calming breaths. "All right, it looks like we've got a little father/son angst, but we can address that in a minute. Vegeta, why don't you go first?"

Silence.

"Vegeta?"

Krillen nudged Vegeta in the ribs. "Hey, Veggie, she's talking to you."

Vegeta looked up from his own private chug contest. "Huh?"

Goku started cracking up, again forgetting that he was depressed. "Krillen called you Veggie!"

Vegeta growled. The next second Krillen was lying on the ground, blood oozing out of his head. His eyes were covered over with little x's."

"Finally," Trunks commented. "Maybe he'll stay…"

Krillen popped up after a white-handed starfield ran through the room. "No such luck," Krillen commented.

Dr. Bunny decided to ignore what had just happened. She noticed that Vegeta was getting interested in his beer bottles again, so she jumped in. "Vegeta, please tell us your name, where you're from, and why you came here."

Vegeta threw a bottle behind him, smiling faintly as he heard it crash. "My name is Vegeta," he said amiably. "I come from Dark Wolf's saga "A Saiyan's Worth." I'm actually from the middle of the story, but I'm here because he's no better at updating than the Poetess." That being said, he quickly lost interest and went back to drinking.

Dr. Bunny's smile was starting to look as forced as Goku's. "All right… Krillen, I think it was. If you're going to stay alive, you might as well tell us who you are."

Krillen was startled to find himself the center of everyone's attention, excluding Vegeta's. "Hi, I'm Kuririn, though my friends don't bother to remember that and just call me Krillen. I'm from "Sarie Mue" by UnromanticPoetess and Howler Wolfe. I was referred here from the hospital after being treated for poison. You see, the Spiny Screaming Crab of Death tried to make my ear his new home, and since I was paralyzed at the time…"

"That's nice, Krillen," Dr. Bunny said airily, obviously having ignored Krillen entirely. "Now, who else to we have? Scott?"

The short, spiky-haired teen looked up. "I'm Scott Evil, although idiot fan girls still call me Oz. I'm from all of the Austin Powers movies, and I'm here because my dad wants me to be evil, and I want to be a veterinarian."

"And evil veterinarian?" Dr. Evil chimed in, pinky at the corner of his mouth.

Scott looked up, exasperated. "You see?"

Dr. Bunny nodded. "Ok… well… we've heard from you… Scott. Now… uh… you, tell us a little about yourself." She indicated Dr. Evil.

"The details of my life are quite inconsequential."

"Oh, no, please… please, let's hear about your childhood," Dr. Bunny encouraged.

The others of the group egged him on… excluding Vegeta, and Goku now, who had joined him in a drinking game.

Dr. Evil looked put upon. "Very well. Where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving belingerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize… he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy… the sort of… general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon. Luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds… pretty standard… really. When I was twelve I received my first scribe. When I was fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my—"

"All right, all right!!" Dr. Bunny's eyes were popping out of her head. "Excuse me, Mr..."

"Doctor," the bald mastermind corrected.

"Dr. Evil," Dr. Bunny continued. "Are you sure you and your son are in the right group?"

Dr. Evil looked bewildered. "This isn't the support group for characters who have been quoted far too often, is it?"

There was a knock on the door, and the hair of Ace Ventura peeped in. "I found him! He's in here!" he shouted over his shoulder.

Dr. Evil looked embarrassed. "Excuse me. Come, Scott." The two walked out of the room.

Vegeta looked up unsteadily. "Hey, Ace! Could you…"

The pet detective glared back. "No! Never again!"

Vegeta laughed uncharacteristically. "Come on, do it! You know you want to."

Goku looked up with a giggle. "Yeah, come on. I wanna hear it. Please?"

Ace Ventura glared at them with uncharacteristic fury. He took a few deep breaths, and then yelled at the top of his lungs… "ALLLLLRIGHTYYYY THENN!!!!"

Everyone else sweatdropped, but the two Saiyan broke down to the floor in drunken laughter. Jim Carey's over-quoted character ran out of the room, sobbing.

Goten glared. "I hate it when Jim Carey tries to play dramatic."

Dr. Bunny felt like joining the sobbing veterinarian. "Allrighty…" she paused as the giggles from the Saiyans renewed. "Okay, she amended. "Now that we have finally gotten the introductions out of the way, we can start the session. Anyone want to open up…" more giggling from the two Saiyans, "… begin?"

"Well," Krillen said, "It all started when I met this girl named Maron. She was really beautiful, and…"

"No one?" Dr. Bunny said, oblivious to the midget's self-involved prattling. "Goten? You've already shared a little of what's going on with you."

Goten gestured dramatically at his father, who was now spinning a bottle between himself and Vegeta, while Vegeta was muttering about something being too "yaoi." "There," Goten said. "There are my problems in a nutshell."

"I thought you liked Vegeta," Trunks said.

Goten glared over at the purple-headed teen. "I wasn't talking about him, and that's not even my Vegeta. My Vegeta is uncharacteristically supportive and grown-up… the one who takes my dad's place in binding the whole group together. That," he pointed at the spiky-haired prince pushing Goku away from him, "is a worthless bum."

"Hey!" Vegeta retorted indignantly. "I have worth!"

Goku giggled. "No you don't!"

Vegeta was taken aback. "You're right! I don't! Hey, you're much better than the Kakarrot in "A Saiyan's Worth."

Goku nodded. "That Goku is probably self-righteous and thinks he's never done a wrong thing. But UnromanticPoetess decided to point out all the innocent people I've unintentionally killed, so now I'm depressed."

Vegeta frowned. "Kakarrot, how many have you had?"

Goku held up the bottle. "Including this?"

Vegeta nodded.

Goku giggled. "One."

Vegeta's eyes widened. "What the hell?"

Goku shrugged. "Blame it on UnromanticPoetess. She's the one who decided that Saiyans shouldn't be able to handle Earth liquor. At least Dark Wolf let you booze it up in relative peace."

Vegeta frowned, downing his last cold one. "Yeah, but he's the one who caused me to get depressed in the first place. He wrote my battle with Alexial. Dark Wolf hasn't been all that kind to me. He even ignored me for a while."

Goten had actually been listening. "Hey. You know, you're actually on to something. It was all UnromanticPoetess's fault that I hate my dad in the first place. Plus, she created all this other crap to happen to me to hurt me even more. She even killed me! In GT I was fairly happy. It's all the Poetess's fault!"

"And," Krillen jumped in, gaining confidence, "UnromanticPoetess and Howler Wolfe introduced me to Sarie Mue, not to mention created the Spiny Screaming Crab of Death."

Goku actually paid attention to Krillen this time. "Hey! Isn't that the story where they called me a lousy Mahjong player?"

Trunks jumped up. "And I was gay!... at least a version of me was… Anyway, let's get her!"

Goten looked up at him. "Mirai, she didn't create you. Toriyama did."

Trunks nodded. "Yeah, but we can't touch him. He's god. So I'll join you in revenge."

Krillen jumped in his chair to add to his height. "Revenge on those who would oppress us with unneeded depression!"

"And let's get Dark Wolf too!" Vegeta yelled. "How dare he make me lose a fight?!"

Dr. Bunny jumped up. "It's even worse for me! I'm a plot device! I'll never forgive the Poetess for creating me just as a lazy plot device for a stupid review special!"

"And after that," Goten concluded, "we all join Chichi's Le Resistance!"

"No!!" the Great Will screamed.

"Alrighty then!" Goku screamed, jumping to the leadership as usual. "Let's kill the fanfiction authors! We will show them no mercy! Revolt!"

The characters stormed out of the room, leaving broken beer bottles and half-eaten danishes in their wake.

Meanwhile, in pseudo-reality, UnromanticPoetess stared at her computer screen in panic. She couldn't have guessed how an innocent review special could have turned out.

Jumping up, she used Goku's teleportation, hoping she'd get there in time.

She found Dark Wolf at his computer, icing his poor knee. "Dark Wolf! We must flee! Our depressed characters are coming after us!"

Dark Wolf got up, his eyes flashing menacingly, yet with a shred of panic to them. "What did you do?"

UnromanticPoetess was panicking. "I only did what you suggested! I put my Goku and your Vegeta into therapy. Now they're blaming us!"

Dark Wolf closed his eyes, considering. "There's only one thing we can do."

"What's that?" the Poetess said desperately.

Dark Wolf gained a dramatic air. "We must put on enticing armor and battle them in intricate detail."

UnromanticPoetess cocked her head. "Can't we whine and go through dramatic angst inner monologues for a while?"

"Only if it involves drinking," Dark Wolf retorted.

UnromanticPoetess took taken aback. "Well… alrighty then."

The two sat in the middle of the floor taking shots and bemoaning their horrible, angst-filled lives… until five ki-blasts – and a pink day planner with a picture of a bunny – hit them unexpectedly, incinerating them both.

And there was much rejoicing.

**Author's Notes**: See what happened, Dark Wolf? See what happens when we get my Goku and your Vegeta together for therapy and partying? We die, that's what happens.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed it. Dark Wolf has referenced me so many times in his fics, all to my delight, that I couldn't help but plug him. See y'all.


	45. One Day More

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**:  Hey!  I actually got this written within six months of my last update!  Hooray for me!  I hope I'm not rushing the action along, though.  I just didn't want to spend too much time on the year of training.  Lord knows DBZ spends enough time on those years of training, even when it mainly consists of running down a really long road with banjo music in the background (gotta love Saiyan Saga).  Anyway, on with the show.

.

**Soul 43: One Day More**

.

Chichi paused as she passed the kitchen calendar, something that she did several times a day.  Nothing was remarkable about it.  She didn't want to look at the pictures of landscapes or anything, and her memory hadn't gotten that bad either.

_The day's almost over anyway_, she debated in her head.  _I know I said I wouldn't anticipate, but it's close enough.  The sun's down, and we've already finished dinner, so I could go ahead and not really be cheating in counting_.

Pursing her lips, she pulled the pen from the coffee mug on the end table underneath the calendar and crossed out the day.  Now that she'd done that, it was only one full day that she had to wait before seeing Goten again.

Some would say that she was crazy.  Those people had a habit of labeling her as such.  Some would also say that she needed to focus more on the fact that, along with Goten, the leech would be coming back with her grandson, having done who knows what to the child, and try to kill everyone.

_So what else is new?_

"You alright?"

Chichi looked up, startled at the unexpected entrance of the blonde cyborg.

"Sorry…" Eighteen said uncomfortably.  "I thought you might need help bringing in the coffee."

Chichi's eyes widened as she realized that the pot was finished bubbling.  "Actually, yes.  I… didn't realize."

Eighteen's lips curled up slightly as she walked over to the cabinet and began pulling down mugs.  She didn't say anything, for which Chichi was grateful. 

That was one thing that always frustrated her about her other friends… which were mostly Goku's friends anyway.  They would always have to talk too much whenever they were trying to be nice or comforting to her, or to anyone.  And then they would suddenly ask if anything was wrong when you would look sad or quiet.  And then get surprised when you would get irritated at them.

Chichi pulled the milk and creamer from the fridge.  She had gotten first-hand experience on the ineffective sympathetic presence of their friends right after Goku had died and she had found out about her pregnancy.  Loyal to Goku, as well as to Gohan, most of their friends tried to be there for her and Goku's unborn child.  Chichi had tried to appreciate the help, but every pitying stare and awkward word had just made her rebuff them.  Not truly understanding why she was so caustic, friends like Bulma, Krillen, Yamcha, and Puar had just given up and distanced themselves, chalking it up to "that's just Chichi."  The only real help she'd gotten had to have been Piccolo, who merely wordlessly came by and took Gohan off her hands whenever she needed it.

_That would have been a great time to have Eighteen's help_, Chichi thought ruefully.  At the time she had violently disliked the woman, and had pushed Krillen away because of it.  She had even stopped going over to the Kame House when Eighteen started living there, and tried to get Gohan to do the same.  It had really irked her when Gohan had ignored her restrictions, and even gave her progress reports on Krillen's new family.  Though, that's probably what helped her get over herself.

Chichi followed Eighteen with the creamer, sugar, and milk, all put into little containers with pictures of daffodils.  She walked out of the quiet of the kitchen into the noisy living room.  In order to get rid of some of the agitation brought on by anticipation of the coming battle, Chichi had gathered around family and friends from supper.  Gohan was sitting in the big armchair, and Videl was perched on one of the chair arms.  She was looking on in amused exasperation and Gohan and Krillen joked around with Pan, who had brought a date.

"No, dad, his name's not Cameron," Pan said through clenched teeth.  "That was from a year ago.  This guy's name is Jared."

Jared shifted on the couch, sweating under the teasing of the two men.  It wasn't like no one had met him before.  Pan had been dating him for several months, and this one had stuck by her for a change after meeting the family.  And Chichi was happy that Pan had found a non-freak who wasn't scared away by their group of lovable freaks.

"Coffee?" Chichi said to Jared quietly, handing him a cup.  He gratefully took it, and started putting in sugar to cover his unease.  He grimaced as he took a sip.  He'd put in too much sugar.

Chichi gave Gohan a look to quiet him down.  He had complained too much in the past about her interfering with his relationships for him to be doing to same to Pan.  Gohan got the message from her that he didn't seem to have gotten from Videl's continual pinches to his arm.

Chichi sighed and set a cup in front of Goku, knowing he would only drink a couple of sips.  Normally Goku would be right in the middle of the teasing and laughter, usually saying something that would make them all face-fault.  Sometimes he would say something like that intentionally, liking the reaction he got out of people.  It was his own brand of humor – a way of putting people at ease around the insanely powerful man.  No matter what anyone said, or what she had said in the past, Chichi knew that Goku wasn't as stupid or naïve as he made himself out to be.  He just handled social interaction the only way he knew how.

It was something that he hadn't done in a long time.

Now Goku was sitting quietly.  Occasionally he'd add a few words in the conversation, but he would never draw attention towards himself with his antics.  It wasn't like he was visibly in the depths of depression anymore.  Chichi knew for a fact that he had steadily been getting better for months.  He ate, he slept, and he even sparred occasionally.  He didn't participate in the grueling training schedules that a few of the others were putting themselves through.  He instead lived much as he usually did, though less on the sparring and more on the fishing and flying through the woods.  Occasionally Chichi would join him on hiking through the woods.  And he would always spend time with Gohan or Pan when they came to visit.  In other words, he was just like Chichi had wanted him to be for so many years.

And she hated it.

Chichi sat down next to Goku, smiling at the perversity of missing the characteristics of Goku that had most frustrated her for so many years.  There he sat, quietly attending their little party instead of dominating it with his jokes.  He had even eaten conservatively, putting away as much food without making as much of a fuss of asking for more.  He was playing the good husband and father, and wasn't being Goku at all.  Maybe both were just fronts, but his old front was something everyone was more comfortable with, including Goku.  Sure enough, people had been casting nervous looks in Goku's direction ever since the beginning of the party.

"I'm surprised you could even come tonight, Pan," Krillen said.  "I thought that megalomaniac prince would still be grinding your face into the dirt."

Pan grinned.  "Yeah, well, today was our last day.  Vegeta-san said that he had wasted enough of his time already.  But we're better now.  I found out that I really do get stronger if I get the crap kicked out of me."

"Vegeta push you that far?" Gohan asked.

"Nah," Pan laughed.  "Darjili, usually."

"So when did you say it was going to happen?" Jared asked.  "Tomorrow?"

Pan coughed, having accidentally taken a sip of Jared's overly sweet coffee.  "Day after," she choked out.

"And who all's going to be fighting?" Jared asked, perfectly aware of the super-strong group and all their various exploits.  Pan had gotten tired of trying to hide everything from her boyfriends and finally decided to tell them all the truth.  This weeded out a lot of guys that would have left her eventually.

Krillen frowned, considering.  "All of the Saiyans… except Bra, of course.  Then there's me and Eighteen, and the Spider students."  Krillen laughed.  "Of course, there's a difference between those who'll actually be fighting and those who'll just be there."

Jared frowned.  "All the Saiyans meaning…"

"Well, me, of course," Gohan said.  "And then there's Pan, Trunks, and Goten is going to be wished back to life.  And Vegeta and Dad."

"No, I'm not."

Gohan was about to say something else when the attention of the room went right to Goku, who was holding his untouched cup of coffee.  Chichi pulled away to look at him in surprise.

"No what, Dad?" Gohan asked shakily.

"Not going to fight when the leech comes," Goku said calmly.

There was a long pause in the room, as everyone expected for Goku to laugh and say he was just kidding.

"Goku," Krillen said hesitantly, "I know you've been going through a lot, but you remember what the leech did, don't you?"

"I was there, Krillen," Goku said.

"Right," said Krillen.  "And you remember that you're the most powerful person on Earth, don't you?"

Goku gave an unconvincing laugh.  "I don't know.  The way everyone's been training recently…"

"We haven't been doing _that_ well in training," Gohan said.  "And we really need everyone to fight."

Goku smiled.  "I have faith in you and Goten.  And Goten's been getting special training.  You wouldn't need me anyway."

Only Gohan and Krillen felt right in confronting Goku.  The rest just stared in amazement.

"Dad, you know that none of us have ever been able to defeat someone on our own!" Gohan exclaimed.  Videl had taken the coffee cup out of his hand just in case he forgot and gripped it too hard.  "We need you!"

Goku frowned.  "I've been in enough battles already.  I've saved the world so many times… and I think it's your turn."

Gohan had pushed himself from his seat.  "He killed Goten, Dad!  And Jita!  And he kidnapped Jiten!  What are you talking about?!  We have to destroy him!"

"So he deserves to die?" Goku asked in a funny voice.  "Anyone who kills deserves to die?"

Gohan looked at Goku as if he'd gone crazy.  "Anyone who kills the innocent, yes.  Come one, Dad, you've always understood this.  You're the one who taught me this.  The leech… is like Cell.  And since we're the only ones who can bring about justice, we have to do it."

Goku stared ahead stonily.  "And that person who brings justice should be qualified… and blameless?"

Gohan sighed.  "Of course."

Goku nodded, hiding his eyes.  "I'm going to go for a walk now."  Goku got up and kissed Chichi on the cheek.  "I'll go ahead and say goodnight."

The party watched helplessly as Goku teleported out of the room.

Gohan sat down slowly.  "He's masked his ki," he said after a moment.

Chichi got up and began cleaning the coffee things away in frustrated silence.

"Why did you have to go one like that, Gohan?" Videl asked him furiously.  "You know how your dad's been like lately."

Gohan slumped in his chair.  "Yeah, and I'm sick of it.  I mean, yeah, he went through a lot, apparently, in hell.  And Goten's dead.  I get that.  But he's never reacted like this.  Why does he have to go all crazy now?"

Chichi slammed the tea tray down, commanding everyone's attention.  She turned slowly to Gohan, a sort of calm intensity on her face.

"And why shouldn't he go crazy sometime, huh?  We're all allowed, and he's not?"

Krillen looked down guiltily, but Gohan just stared at his mother, dumbfounded.

Chichi crossed her arms.  "As easy as it is to just rely on Goku to do everything, he can't do it.  Even his children and closest friends forget that Goku is a person like everyone else.  No one faults you, Krillen, or you, Gohan, for staying in the background and relying on others to make decisions.  But as soon as Goku does it, everyone jumps on him.  And, yes, including me," she said, anticipating the protest on waiting lips.

"Chichi," Krillen said calmingly, "no one is saying that Goku has to fight.  "It's just," he scratched his graying hair, "this is far from Goku's style.  Goku has always been the one to swear vengeance or justice on any enemy or murderer.  Remember the Red Ribbon Army?  And Piccolo Sr.?  And, kami, even Frieza.  Goku has always killed out of revenge or… because it needed doing.  And it's not right when he suddenly does the opposite."

"He swore vengeance on the leech," Pan muttered.  "Remember?  That's when the leech said he'd come in a year."

"Maybe he doesn't want to kill," Eighteen finally said.

Everyone looked up in realization.

Gohan laughed after a minute.  "That's… ridiculous."

"You didn't want to kill Cell," Krillen said pointedly.

Gohan frowned.  "That's beside the point.  I'm not Dad.  Dad didn't have a problem with it.  And… he's never killed innocents."

"He would never do so unintentionally," Krillen surmised.

There was a long lapse in the conversation, and no one seemed to want to break the silence, either by talking or leaving.  However, it wasn't overly long before they heard the tiny chime of the living room clock.

Jared cleared his throat.  "Um… Pan?  I gotta go to work in the morning, so…"

Pan looked at her watch.  "Crap, you're right!"

Eighteen got up, pulling Krillen up with her.  "We've got to get home, too."

Videl did the same to Gohan.  "We don't want to keep you up, Chichi."

Chichi laughed as she got up to see her guests out.  "You think I'm getting any sleep tonight?  You're crazy."

Gohan and Videl took off with few words.  Gohan realized that he'd said some things that he was already regretting, so he thought it best just to leave without provoking another argument with his mother.

Pan and Jared climbed into his economy-sized capsule plane and sped off, leaving Krillen and Eighteen with Chichi.

"You okay?" Krillen asked Chichi tentatively.

Chichi smiled a fake smile which quickly faded away.  "Yes, I'm fine.  Can you sense where Goku is?"

Krillen concentrated for a minute before shaking his head.  "He's masking his ki.  Probably doesn't want anyone to harass him some more about him not fighting."  Krillen snorted… as well as he could without a nose.  "No fighting… yeah right.  Once the battle starts and Goten gets wished back, Goku'll come.  Especially if he senses that we're having a hard time of it."

Eighteen smirked.  "Krillen, you know I hate it when you're optimistic."

Even Chichi was able to join in laughing at that.

Meanwhile, Pan was staring ahead at the copilot's controls, not speaking.  Too much was on her mind.

"Well, that was weird… and uncomfortable," Jared said quietly.

Pan looked over at him.  "Jared, I'm sorry.  It's just this whole… thing… that I told you about."

Jared nodded.  "Yeah, I know.  Gotta be wearing on people, especially since it happened so many times before."

"Yeah," Pan agreed quietly, still worrying.

"So it's the day after tomorrow?" Jared asked, hoping to keep Pan talking.  Brooding was not his favorite date activity.  Neither was supper with the grandparents, but that was beside the point.

Pan checked the clock.  "Almost tomorrow, by now."

"What time did the guy say?"

Pan frowned.  "Didn't say an exact time.  We'd know the place by his energy signal, I guess.  And all he said was that he would return in exactly a year."

Jared started slowing down as they approached Pan's apartment building.  "Would that be 365 days or 366 days?"

"What?" Pan asked.  "What do you mean?  A year is 365 days."

"This is a leap year," Jared said nonchalantly.  "You said that the leech was in another dimension.  Does he have calendars there, or is he just counting 365 days?"

Pan frowned, frustrated.  "I don't know.  Maybe he picked up a calendar while he was here.  Maybe they have leap years in other dimensions.  I don't know!"

Jared frowned.  "It was just a suggestion," he said sullenly.

Pan sighed as they touched down in front of her apartment complex.  "Jared, I'm sorry.  I just… I'm tired, and frustrated, and really worried.  I don't mean to take my frustrations out on you."

Jared smiled.  "That's okay.  You go in and get some sleep.  We can talk tomorrow."

Pan smiled, kissed Jared goodnight, and got out, staying by the curb to watch him fly off.  She then mounted the stairs and entered her apartment, suddenly intent on a glass of water.

As she passed by the phone table, she stared at the baseball calendar, noting the day circled in red.  She stared in doubt for a second, but then shook her head.  _Nah… we've all been expecting it then.  The gods wouldn't make that sort of mistake._

.

Darjili landed neatly outside of the grounds of Capsule Corp at the gate.  She would have landed in the front yard, but she didn't go over there all that often and didn't think that it was appropriate.  Even the contact with Vegeta-san was a teacher relationship, and she wouldn't just walk into any of her other teachers' houses uninvited… well, except for Goten and Jita, but she lived there anyway.

She pressed the doorbell and waited for an answer.  As she waited, the traffic and pedestrians passed by obliviously.  Well… oblivious to the danger to the world in the form of the leech.  It was getting fairly late at night, and none of the people passing by looked all that oblivious or naïve.  If she hadn't been stronger than any of them, Darjili would have been worried for her safety.  As it was, if anyone caused trouble, she could just smack them out of the way.

The intercom crackled to life with a slight buzz that came from much use and little maintenance.  "Trunks speaking.  Who is this?"

Darjili smiled at him having to ask.  As if he couldn't just read her power signal.  Of course, he didn't know her all that well, so it was understandable.  "This is Darjili, one of the Spider students.  I came with the dragonballs."

There was a pause, with some muffled talk.  Finally Trunks said, "Come in."

The gate opened with a whirr, and Darjili quickly walked in so the gate didn't have to stay open longer than necessary.  A security guard with a dog was crossing the front path.  Darjili hesitated, but he merely smiled and nodded at her.  Darjili smiled back, and walked on ahead.  She clutched the purse filled with dragonballs, along with a radar, tighter to her side.

The door opened automatically, and she walked into the lobby.  She always found it strange that someone's house would have a lobby, but she knew that Capsule Corp was also a business.  They had built a new office building a few blocks down a couple of years ago, but there were still labs and offices that employees used in the original building itself.  As such, the entire house set off a feeling of formality and intimidation right from the get go.

Darjili hesitated, but then decided to simply follow power readings to find someone.  Since she had spoken to Trunks, she looked for his reading.  Thankfully, or unfortunately, he seemed to be around the entire Briefs clan.

Darjili walked into the living room to find a surprisingly domestic scene.  Bra was curled up on the couch watching a movie; after a few minutes, Darjili was able to tell that it was _The Princess Bride_.  Trunks was half-watching the movie while going over some important-looking papers.  Bulma and Vegeta were sitting at a small table near the French doors, playing a game of chess.

Vegeta looked up from smirking triumphantly at the seemingly-stumped Bulma.  "So, girl, you decided to take your own sweet time at bringing those dragonballs over."

Darjili would have been intimidated if it weren't for two things: a) she had lived around Jita too long to be intimidated and b) she was in her blonde form.  And that still gave her a little more edge than other times.  "I apologize, Vegeta-san, for being remiss in my responsibilities to take care of your own responsibilities.  It won't happen again."

Vegeta was not to be cowed by her sarcasm.  "See that it doesn't."

Bulma looked up as if realizing for the first time that Darjili was there.  "Oh, you brought 'em over.  Thank you."  She got up to take the dragonballs from Darjili.

Vegeta simply rolled his eyes and looked down at the board to make his move.

Bulma looked back and grinned.  "Oh, yeah, Vegeta.  I forgot to say… checkmate," she winked cheekily.

Vegeta cursed and stalked off into another room.

Bulma laughed loudly, making sure that Vegeta heard her.  "Great, now he'll be impossible to live with.  Such a sore loser…"

Vegeta yelled something in an unrecognizable language – possibly Saiyan, possibly not – and Darjili had the distinct impression that it was something that should never be translated.

Bulma laughed and took the purse that Darjili was offering.  "Here… I'll put these in the bedroom.  They'll probably be safest there."

"Since nothing will be going on there tonight!" Vegeta yelled from the other room.

"Sorry, I forgot I had to make allowances for your old age!" Bulma yelled as she was walking down the hall.

Darjili wisely turned her attention away from the continuing argument and to the television screen.  She briefly admired the state-of-the-art, I-would-never-be-able-to-afford-this plasma screen.  Then she caught what the scene of the movie was: the scene with Miracle Max and his wife.  She stifled a laugh with great difficulty.

Bra looked over her shoulder at Darjili, showing the amusement in her own eyes.  They both laughed quietly at the comparison.

Bulma walked back in the room.  "OK, it's all set with everybody."

Darjili quickly looked back at Bulma and hid her amusement.

"Early the day after tomorrow we're going to wish Goten back.  That should give plenty of time for those muscle-heads to come up with a battle plan.  And then… it's just a matter of waiting."

"What time?" Darjili asked, wishing she'd brought something to write it down on.  While her personalities were no longer like two separate people, she did have minimal memory loss, most of which could be chalked up to normal forgetfulness.

Bulma checked her watch, though it was for absolutely no reason since it wasn't like she recorded anything on that watch.  Although, for all Darjili knew, maybe she did.

"We're meeting at eight in the morning tomorrow.  It was the latest I could push these fighters back.  Why all you fighter types like to get up so early in the morning I have no idea."

Darjili held her tongue.  She liked to sleep in, and had been horrified to hear that she had to get up before eight.

"Wait," Darjili said, "I forgot.  Why aren't we wishing Goten-san back earlier?"

Bulma shook her head and sighed.  "I tried to get them to go ahead and get it over with, but everyone else agrees that Goten will need all the training he can get… I didn't mean for it to sound that way…"

Darjili caught the unspoken reason.  Everyone knew that Goku had been really messed up in the head for the past year, and Goten had always had issues with his patriarch.  Darjili knew that people fought best without being hindered by personal distractions.  Goten would have enough to worry about with Jiten and all.

Darjili looked down at her own watch and groaned.  She had planned to go to bed early, or at least before midnight.  "I'd… better be off," she smiled, taking her leave.

"Thanks for bringing the dragonballs over," Bulma smiled back.  The walked over to the small table to put the chess board up.

As she was turning to exit, Darjili was stopped by Bulma's voice.

"Oh, Darjili?" the blue-haired woman said.  "Could you come by tomorrow with the six-star dragonball?  You must have left it.  It wasn't in with the others."

Darjili's eyes widened as she blushed.  "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry.  It must have fallen out…  I'll go back and…"

Bulma winked at her.  "No problem.  Don't go to any trouble tonight.  Just come by some time tomorrow.  Someone ought to be here."

Darjili bowed slightly and took her leave, still embarrassed at her mistake.  As soon as she cleared the gate, she decided to take to the skies, still wondering where she had put that stupid dragonball.  Oh well.  She would just look for it the next day.

.

Vegeta was pacing the house.

He felt trapped there.  Even at such a ridiculously humongous place as Capsule Corp, he felt trapped in a way that he had never seemed to suffer before, even in the close confines of a spacepod.

He growled in irritation at the robot servants watching him, knowing they were turning their heads to follow his steps by the mechanical whirr and slight squeaking of metal that didn't get maintenance all that often.  He knew it was idiotic to care about what robots thought of him, but it irritated him nonetheless.  Why should they care where he goes, or whether or not he was going anywhere?  They were robots.  It was none of their business.

And, for all he knew, Bulma could have programmed them to monitor his moods or something.  The woman was always worrying about his emotional state.

Before he knew it, Vegeta found himself walking down the massive corridor that used to serve as the main living quarters of the Briefs family, containing the master bedroom that he shared with Bulma, Trunks' old room, Bra's old room, and the guest room that Vegeta had inhabited before he'd taken to just staying in Bulma's room.

All were empty except for the master bedroom.  He and Bulma still slept there.  Trunks had long ago moved into the old Briefs bedroom – something about wanting more privacy.  And Bra had taken Bulma's childhood room, which consisted of half of the second floor.

Bulma had been hesitant, but Vegeta had quickly overruled.  For one, they were both adults, for kami's sake.  Wasn't it customary to move out once you reached adulthood?  Apparently not in the Briefs clan, though Vegeta could never understand why.  While Bulma's parents had been still living, Vegeta had hinted at taking their family and building a place out of the city.  Bulma had been horrified at the notion of leaving Capsule Corp.  Leave home?! she'd said.

Vegeta'd had no problem leaving his parents' home.  Of course, he'd also had no choice.

Vegeta entered the large room, noting that Bulma was in the shower.  He smiled at the relatively early bedtime, but then shrugged and decided that it wasn't a bad idea.  Always get sleep while you can, because you never know when you're going to need it.

He shrugged off his clothes and readied himself for bed.  Bulma was still showering when he flopped into bed with the light on.  She'd turn it off when she got ready.  Then he smirked tiredly, wondering when he'd gotten so considerate.  He picked up a book, something that Jita had been pestering him to read.  He'd just now made the time to read it, with slight chagrin at the thought that Jita would have probably wished to discuss the book with him.

After a few minutes of trying to read Proust, his brain started to hurt.

"Vegeta?  You there?"

Vegeta did not put the book down when Bulma called his name.  It was an idiotic question anyway.  She was right in front of him.  She could see him.  Of course he was there.

Bulma continued.  "I would have thought you would have gone back to the Spider dojo or something.  That's where you've been spending all your free time, and I thought you were going to get that other dragonball."

Vegeta closed his eyes in frustration.  He'd been pissed when the schitzo girl had forgotten about the other dragonball.  That was the sort of mistake that one did not make in life-or-death situations.  "I would have thought you would have learned not to be so interested in how I spend my free time."

Bulma glared at him, and then instantly deafened him with her hair dryer.  He glared back mutely, not wishing to yell over the blasted contraption.

"So why weren't you at the Spider dojo this evening?" Bulma asked immediately after the dryer cut off.

Vegeta sighed tiredly and propped his book back up.  "Don't you ever stop talking?"

Bulma smiled.  "I've been like this for six decades, and I'm not about to quit now."

Vegeta snorted.  "You say that like you're old."

Bulma sat on the other side of the bed and slipped under the covers.  "Say the word 'old' in conjunction with me again, and you'll be out of that bed.  And you didn't answer my question."

"I didn't feel like it.  Is that all right with you, woman?"

Bulma faked a look of shock.  "You?  Not want to train?"

"It can happen, you know."

"So is that why you've been stalking through the hallways?"

Vegeta stared hard at Bulma.  "You're too nosy for your own good.  And you talk about stalking."

"It's called taking an interest," Bulma replied.  "Pardon me for finding it a little strange when you suddenly give up your obsession with training the Spider students that you've had for the past month… in favor of spending the evening with your family, something I know that you are loathe to do."

Vegeta let Bulma's last phrase slide.  "How is a few more days' training going to make any difference?"

Bulma's brow furrowed.  "OK, now I'm really worried.  Mr. 'I'll-train-until-the-very-last-second-and-make-an-unexpected-entrance-in-the-battle.'  Really, what's gotten into you?"

Vegeta smiled at her comments.  "Humans are different.  The brats were getting nervous with the end of the world coming up the day after tomorrow.  I told them to go home and get some sleep."

Bulma looked over at Vegeta.  "What about you?  Getting nervous?  We still have a couple of days, you know."

Vegeta didn't answer.  Bulma didn't feel like pressing the issue this time.

Vegeta closed his eyes, knowing that he probably needed to get some sleep.  Despite what he had told Bulma, he knew he was going to get up early in the morning and train as hard as he could for most of the day… without the humans.  He needed to spend a little time getting himself primed for the battle, and he didn't need the humans in his way.  They wouldn't benefit from extra training so close to the fight anyway.  For it was only the day after tomorrow that it would be an exact year since the leech had issued his ultimatum.

But that felt so far removed from reality; Vegeta just couldn't bring himself to believe that it would happen.  Instead, he envisioned the day after to be just like the one before.  It was nothing like the approaching battles of his youth, when planet would keep getting bigger as he approached each, intent on destroying them.

"It doesn't seem like it's actually going to happen, does it?" Bulma mirrored his thoughts.  Vegeta stared at her, almost giving credence to his occasional feeling of having a mental bond with her.

"I wonder why?" Bulma continued sleepily.  "I mean, I've been through umpteen number of 'end-of-the-world' scenarios, and who knows how many years of watching you guys train for each one.  You'd think I'd be used to it by now."

"You never get used to terror," Vegeta said before he realized.

Bulma stared at him, but he just stared at the ceiling.

"You think you do," Vegeta continued quietly.  "You think you'll get used to each one – that the pain and fear and anticipation will become more bearable.  But it never does.  That's why it doesn't seem so real.  It's your mind's way of keeping you sane.  And denial seems to be a common practice on this planet."

Bulma laughed.  "I guess that's why I'm so calm.  But…" she hesitated to ask this question.  Even after years of marriage, there were still some personal barriers that she was never sure she could push.  "Why?..."

"Why what?"

"Why are you so agitated?" she finally asked.

Vegeta smiled wryly.  "Same reason.  Everything _is_ normal."

Vegeta watched the confused expression on Bulma's face.  He didn't see the point in evading Bulma's unspoken questions.

Vegeta turned to face her and propped himself up on one elbow.  "Bulma, you know I lived a very different life.  From what I've heard, you've spent your life, directly or indirectly, trying to keep people from blowing up the planet.  I've been on the opposite side.  I blew planets up."

Bulma smiled tentatively.  "Vegeta, I know this, and you know that it doesn't matter…"

Vegeta stopped her.  "I'm not asking for forgiveness.  It's not your to give.  Like I said, I blew planets up.  Most were not my choice, but that's beside the point.  But it gave me a different perspective on things.  Do you know what I saw whenever I would go to a planet set for purging?"

Bulma merely waited for him to answer his own rhetorical.

"Normality.  That's what I saw.  Everything was so blasted normal.  People were going to and from work.  Children were playing.  The shops were full, meals were eaten, people were talking…  Pretty much what you'd see if you walked out of the outside gate right now.  And it was all ended… in a flash."

Vegeta paused.  "Despite the fact that we are living in one of the most abnormal residence's in this entire planet, and we lead the most abnormal lives, this day – right now – is normal, just like any other day.  So you see why I'm nervous?  It's always normal when bad things happen.  It's from your own experience as well – you know it.  What were you doing when Raditz landed?  Having a normal reunion with your friends.  What were we doing when Frieza and his father landed on Earth?  We were having a barbeque.  And it was just a normal Budoukai when Babadi started all that trouble with Buu… and when… the leech appeared."  He still could not talk about Jita's death, even though he saw it in his head every day.

"Tomorrow will be a normal day.  So will the next day, until the leech comes.  The leech could come right now.  And are we prepared?  No.  The normality leads us into a false sense of calm, dulling our reactions and thoughts, even as it preserves our sanity.  Perhaps I could have done something more for Jita…" he paused, and only Bulma would be able to tell from the small signs of sadness that he was attempting to regain control of his emotions.  "Perhaps I could have," he continued, "if I hadn't been so caught up and secure in the normality and peace of the day."

"So that's why I'm like this," he finally looked at Bulma, who was rendered speechless.  "I don't want it to happen again."

"Vegeta…" Bulma began.

"You're right," Vegeta said easily, lying back down.  "I'm going to go out and train tomorrow, probably starting before you even wake up.  Even through the normality, I'm going to make myself prepared.  We can't be taken off guard.  If we are, especially with the nature of the leech's powers, it will spell disaster."

Vegeta stopped talking, seemingly spent of energy.  Bulma watched him, knowing this was one of the precious few times that he had come even close to pouring out his soul.  She knew not to ruin it with words.  Instead, she snuggled closer to him, and within a few minutes she actually felt an arm go around her.

She felt bad about how it was affecting Vegeta, but, guiltily, Bulma reveled in the normality of the moment.  It wasn't like they'd have the luxury of it any time soon.

.

The night was exceptionally quiet.

Not that anyone would be able to tell.  It seemed like the entire world – the entire universe was sleeping.  Of course, this was foolishness.  On half of the one planet it was daytime, so not as many people were sleeping.  But it wasn't the strict facts.  It was the mood – the atmosphere.

There weren't even very many animals making the usual noises.  Although there were very few animals that would make noise in the middle of the ocean, there hadn't been much noise in the desert, and not even a barking dog in the classy subdivision.  Even here, the sea was amazingly still as he descended to the tiny island.

Meanwhile, he crackled with power, though that didn't make very much noise at all.  It was a good thing too.  He needed to keep a low profile.

The energy was not all his, although he had plenty of energy already.  That he kept carefully hidden.  He knew that these warriors had been training for a year, and their ki sense was probably at its peak.  Though the scarred human, the three-eyes, and the kewpie doll had obviously not been training as hard as some of the others.  Their collective power was not as much as he'd hoped, and they didn't even feel him standing over them, slowly draining them of their power.

They were fools.

As were these.  The door creaked as it opened.  They had not locked it, feeling secure in the isolation of their island and their high power levels.

Holding his breath, he crept up the stairs, bypassing several empty rooms, some that looked as if they had once been bedrooms and now were storage.  He wondered how the previous residents would have felt.  With disgust at the apparent lack of respect for the possibly deceased former residents, he slid along the hallway to what looked like the largest bedroom.

It was the master bedroom, and there was soft snoring emitting from it.  He grinned.  _Bingo!_

He could see two mops of hair peaking from the blankets – one blonde and one black slightly tinged with gray.  They were both so peaceful.  He could make out a book lying on the covers between them, open face-down to hold the place.

First the android.

He moved slowly over to the right side of the bed, barely even breathing.  He didn't know if the android would have any extra sensors.  He'd been wondering if she even had any life energy, but those doubts had just been dispelled by the warm glow of it hanging over her as she slept.

That was why energy was easier to steal while the person was asleep.  A person only utilizes the minimum level of energy while he or she is unconscious, and state of actual sleeping will push the ki outward to surround the body while the mind is asleep.  He supposed that it was a primal protective measure.

Not that it could protect against a leech.

He held his palms outward, touching the warm field of energy mere centimeters above the cyborg's body.  He grinned as he felt it flow within him.  This was much more pleasant than actually sucking energy from an alert opponent.  And this energy definitely felt different.  It felt… nice.  He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the drawing of energy.

And then he heard the bed creak.

He jerked, one hand pulling away from 18's body as he opened his eyes.  Two glaring eyes under a mat of black hair greeted him.

.

Krillen had been having a rather pleasant dream… something involving Eighteen and a watergun.  Something seemed to stir him awake, however.  He was all set to explore the Freudian interpretations of the dream, and think up jokes to share with Eighteen later, when he saw a dark figure hovering over his wife.

He raised up slightly, the bed protesting as he did so, and simply stared at the figure, hoping against hope that this was a dream, and nothing was really happening.  The thoughts were dispelled when the figure's panic-filled eyes met his.

Somewhere in Krillen's brain, the realization of what was happening and the fact that it wasn't a dream connected to form a rush of extreme anger and power.  He couldn't really make out the nighttime visitor.  All he could make out was that it was standing over his wife with the intention of doing harm.  That was enough to make Krillen's ki spike to its highest.

He pulled back his hands and, realizing that the attacker was now too surprised to move, started to form his most familiar attack.

"KA-ME-HA-ME-HAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!"

The wave hit dead on, shooting the screaming figure through a shattering roof.  Krillen was on his feet by this time, advancing on his attacker.  He could hear sharp breaths, and couldn't figure out whether they were his opponent's or his own.

It was a full moon that night, and, though he had rarely seen him before, he knew exactly who it was.

"Jiten?!"

The boy, still smoking from the close-range Kamehameha and obviously in some pain, laughed harshly.  "So I'm remembered after all."

Krillen stared at the boy, trying to make out the laughing, if mischievous, child that had once seemed as innocent and both Goku and Goten when they had been children.  He could only see hardness in those eyes, as if the boy had turned into someone else entirely.

"What were you doing, Jiten?" Krillen said slowly and calmly, as he would any child who had gotten himself or herself into a dangerous situation.

Jiten crossed his arms and glared.  He was not very intimidating or daunting, but he looked more evil than Vegeta had ever thought about being.

"I serve a new master now," Jiten said with an excited, nervous whisper.  The energy is for him."

Jiten suddenly looked upward, as if someone was talking in his head and he couldn't pay attention to anything else.  He nodded his head and looked back at Krillen.

Krillen was trying to think of something else to say, hoping that he could reach some vestige of Jiten left within the tiny acolyte.

His thoughts were cut off by Jiten.  "Where are the dragonballs?  Probably at Capsule Corp… right?"

Krillen gaped at him, not sure of what to say.  What could he say?  Don't do anything to them… we're going to wish your father back with them.  Or perhaps he could tell him the wrong place and send him on a wild goose chase to save time.

Before Krillen could say a thing, Jiten had flown off with such speed as Krillen could never dream.

.

On the Supreme Kai's planet, somewhere in unknown space, Jita was kicking the Supreme Kai awake.  From the look in her eyes, he instantly knew.

"It has begun."

.

**Reviewer thanks**:

**Lil Shady**:  Wow… and that chapter was me writing flat and shallow characters!  Ha-ha.  Anyway.  Thank you for the praise, and I'm glad you enjoyed the reviewer special.  I am going to get to your new chapters, by the way.  I just forget whenever I actually do get online.  Anyway, see ya later!

**ClassicDrogn**: You know, I was actually flattered by the honesty of your review.  I rarely have people tell me that my fanfiction writing is slightly above the average writing of a paperback novel.  It tells me that you know good writing… anyway.  I don't know exactly what I'm getting at, but I guess you understand what I'm saying.  I'm glad you're enjoying my really long angstfest.

**Nagash**:  You know, when I began writing "The Soul," I didn't know that an original character (female Saiyan who happens to be the sister of either Goku or Vegeta) was an overused and tired idea.  I just had this idea for a character and went with it.  Sometimes I have trouble with dealing with the massive amount of character which Toriyama has provided us, but I'm trying.  Thank you for appreciating my efforts.

**Howler**:  I knew you'd like the review chapter, sweetie.  And I found out that I can write comedy on my own… mostly from your influence.  I always knew you'd be a bad influence on me.  Ha-ha.  Just kidding.  And I really didn't want to dwell on Piccolo and Pikkon all that much.  I did try to write a longer scene with them, but when it comes down to it, there's really not much for them to talk about.  And, one more thing.  HERE'S THE NEW CHAPTER!  YA HAPPY?!  : )  Love you.

I know this chapter was a little short, but I found a good stopping place in the action.  I'll try to get the next one out as soon as possible.


	46. Panic in the Streets

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**:  I realize that this is a rather short chapter.  But you've got to admit… it was updated quickly.  Action is different from angst.  It goes quickly, and I think it's better suited to smaller installments.  Don't worry.  I'll have the next chapter up quickly.

**Soul 44: Panic in the Streets**

It was three o'clock in the morning, even earlier than Vegeta got up.

He'd had a restless night, and it seemed like he'd just properly gotten to sleep.  Actually, he'd been asleep for two hours, but that didn't make him any more cheerful when he heard the bedside phone ringing… and that Bulma had moved it to his side… again…

"Wake up, woman."

Bulma stayed still, snoring softly.

He jostled her.  "The damn phone's ringing."

She mumbled something and rolled over.

Adding to his list of profanities for the day, Vegeta jerked up the still-ringing phone.  "This had better be the end of the world," he growled in the raspiness of sleep.

"Good guess, Vegeta," a nervously laughing voice said at the other end.

Vegeta closed his eyes, trying to keep his temper under control as he heard the voice of one of the most annoying people in the world.  Then his eyes flew open as he realized that Krillen would only risk his life by calling either Bulma or Vegeta at three in the morning if it actually was the end of the world.  Which could only mean…

"What's happened," Vegeta demanded.

He could hear some rustling around after a slight pause.  "I… uh… oh right.  I found Jiten in my house.  I think he was taking Eighteen's energy.  I took him by surprise and blew him out of the house, and then he asked if the dragonballs were at Capsule Corp, and then he took off."

Vegeta sighed loudly, trying to collect his thoughts in his lingering drowsiness.  _I knew it!  Kami help me, I knew it!  And why am I praying to _that_ useless Namek.  Alright, think._

"Krillen," Vegeta barked.  "Call the others.  I'll prepare for my nephew's… arrival."

"No can do," Krillen said shortly.  "I've got to get Eighteen to Korin's for a senzu.  I'll get plenty of beans there."

"Fine," Vegeta growled.  "I'll get the woman to do it."  He hung up without saying goodbye.

"Get me to do what?" Bulma said irritably, having slept through most of the conversation.

Vegeta had no time to argue.  He didn't know how much Jiten's speed had been improved.  "The leech is here… along with Jiten.  Jiten's coming here, and I need you to call everyone.  After that, you and Bra barricade yourselves in the underground shelter."

Bulma glared at Vegeta as if to say "like hell we will," but got on the phone anyway.  Vegeta began pulling on his clothes.

"I'm getting no answer at Yamcha's," she said after a pause.

"Why are you calling that waste of flesh anyway?" Vegeta barked at her.  "Call Kakarrot.  Call Gohan.  Call the dojo.  I'll get the kids up, and then activate the dragonballs."

Bulma began dialing, and then gasped and slammed the receiver down.  "Vegeta!  The six-star dragonball!  It… isn't here, remember?"

Vegeta felt like throttling something, namely a certain Spider student.  "Alright, I'll send Trunks over to the dojo.  Call Darjili in advance."

"What are you going to do?!" Bulma yelled after him.

"Wait for Jiten!"

.

Goten felt it immediately… like a jolt, which stopped him in his sparring with Olibu.  He absent-mindedly blocked a fist and held it, staring toward Enma's place.

"What's wrong, boy?" the heroic-sounding voice intoned.

Goten had almost thought that, by some impossible burst of good fortune, Jita had suddenly come back to life.  However, such was not the case.  Even from another dimension, he could tell that Jiten had returned to the living world.

"Jiten…" he whispered.  "I've got to get King Kai!"  He ran towards the North Galaxy compound, leaving Olibu forgotten.  Olibu shook his head and then ran after the young Saiyan.

Goten didn't know what to think all the time he was running.  For one, it was beginning, even if it was a day early.  On the other hand, Jiten was back.  He… couldn't decide what to feel.

Jiten was back.

Goten, with his new burst of speed, almost knocked a Goten-shaped hole in the wall of the North Galaxy compound.  He quickly veered toward the doorway only to find that King Kai was waiting for him in the threshold.  Apparently he'd been asleep because he was in his pajamas, complete with nightcap and candle.

"What is it, Goten?!  You're loud enough to wake the dead!" he said, and then started his snorting laughter.  "Wake the dead!  Get it?!  'Cause we're all… and I'm…"

When he got no response other than Goten staring at him wide-eyed, practically bursting to tell him something, King Kai sobered.

"What is it, Goten?" the kai asked a bit more calmly.

"It's started, King Kai!  Jiten is here!  And I guess the leech is too, even though I haven't felt him yet, but my son is back!" he said all in one breath."

King Kai paused, trying to make out the jumbled mess.  "You've been to the beach, and you've got a sunburn on your back?" he asked tentatively.

"No!" Goten yelled in frustration.  "End of year!  Leech!  Jiten!  Big fight!  Remember now?"

King Kai's sunglasses flashed.  "Ah, yes.  So it seems that you're going to be wished back any time soon.  Let's see… isn't it nighttime on your part of Earth right now?"

Goten was jumping from one foot to the other.  "I don't know!  Let me see!"

Goten grabbed King Kai, pulled him out of the doorway, and gripped him by the back of his pajamas. 

"All right!  Put me down, already!" King Kai yelled in protest.  "I'll show you what's on Earth, but you better be glad you're coming back to life," King Kai grumbled, focusing on the familiar planet.

.

Trunks threw a pillow toward the doorway, where someone was flicking the light switch on and off.  The pillow immediately came flying back at him, knocking him off the bed and onto the floor.

"Wha…?!" Trunks yelled, both annoyed and slightly incoherent.

"Out of bed, brat!" came his father's caustic reply.  "Battle's starting a day early.  Now get over to the Spider dojo and get that last dragonball!"

Trunks stared at the seething prince dumbly.  "Battle… early?"

Vegeta started stalking toward Trunks, looking like he was going to bodily throw the man out of the house.

Trunks jumped up and began pulling on his pants.  "Fine!  I'm going!"

Vegeta stopped.  "Good.  Jiten will be here any minute, and who knows how much energy he's already stolen."

Trunks finally pulled his black tank top on.  "Wait… what am I supposed to do again?"

Vegeta looked like he was going to bust the little vein standing out on forehead.  "Dragonball.  Spider dojo.  Now," he said with a calm that contradicted his fury… and would have calmed Trunks if he didn't know his father's temper so well.

Trunks was out of his bedroom window into the sky before anyone could draw another breath.

.

Jiten wasn't sure what to think about the sudden chaos.

He was definitely worried about the fiasco at the Kame House.  Who would have thought that Krillen was such a light sleeper?  Or would blast him out of the house like that?

Jiten shook his head.  He'd also screwed up when he mentioned Capsule Corp.  He knew that they were expecting him there already.  He could sense Vegeta, and Trunks was flying away from the house, obviously to warn other fighters.

Not that they needed it.  Power signals were flaring up all over the globe, like little dots on a war room map in old movies.

Darn it!  Master told me to keep a low profile!  Now I can't get any more easy energy… oh well, he sighed.  I just hope Master can handle most of it from here.  I'm good at stealing energy when people let me or aren't aware of it, but not from adult fighters!

Jiten stopped in midair, thinking fast.  They know I'm going to Capsule Corp, but as far as I know, they can't sense me.  So all their strong warriors will be at Capsule Corp, but that doesn't mean that I have to be there.  It'll take them a while to get the other dragonball anyway.

Jiten smirked, feeling the hard weight in his pocket.  It had been pure chance that he'd walked down the very street where Darjili had dropped the six-star dragonball.

.

"AUGH!  Where is it?!"

Darjili was literally ripping open the sofa cushions, halfway concerned over whether or not Goten would forgive her for destroying his house to find the thing that would bring him back to life.

"Did you check the dojo?!" Pecon yelled from upstairs.

"Twice!" Darjili yelled back.  "Even Jita's office!"

Pecon flashed down the stairs at a dead run.  Krianan and Danton, who'd stayed over for the past few nights, could be heard tearing up the kitchen.  Darjili ducked just in time to avoid a flying pot.

Pecon was running out to the dojo again when he almost collided with a certain purple-haired Saiyan.

"Where the dragonball?" Trunks asked breathlessly, without preamble.

"Question of the day," Krianan bit out, storming out of the kitchen.  She glared daggers at Darjili.

"Hey!" Darjili said, a little louder than necessary.  "It's not my fault!  I wasn't even supposed to be the one to bring the dragonballs over to Capsule Corp.  That was Vegeta's job!"

"You gonna tell him that?!" Trunks asked incredulously.

Darjili looked a bit cowed.  "Well…"

"It's not here," Danton said hotly.  "Darjili must have dropped it."

"So where's a radar?" Pecon asked reasonably.  "Where the one we used to find them in the first place?"

Darjili blushed.  "I took it over to Capsule Corp with the other dragonballs.  Didn't think we'd need it anymore."

"So why didn't you take it back when you realized that you didn't have one of them?" Krianan's voice cracked in anger and panic.

"I thought it'd be right here!" Darjili yelled.  "Trunks-san?  Did you bring it?"

Trunks shifted sheepishly under the gazes of the four humans.  "Um… no?  Didn't think of it."

"Why not?!" they said collectively.

Trunks flared back.  "You try thinking of everything when my dad is kicking you out of the house!"

The four backed off, well aware of the potency of Vegeta's persuasion.

Pecon stepped to the forefront.  "Alright, we'll just retrace Darjili's steps from earlier, while you get the dragon radar, Trunks-san.  It'll be found, one way or another."

Not waiting for anything else, Trunks took off.

"Wait," Danton said as the four walked out of the house.  "What about Pan?"

Krianan dismissed it with a wave of her hand.  "Apparently someone called her already, cuz she's up.  I feel her ki.  She'll either go to Capsule Corp, or find us.  Either way, there's no need to call her."

.

Pan was asleep.

She was having a strange dream, though.  She was still asleep, but it seemed like she wasn't.  The dream was just so real.

It was back at the Budoukai, almost exactly a year before.  She was walking through the tournament compound, trying to see signs that it was actually a monastery that she was walking through.  There seemed to be no indication.  Apparently the monks had long ago capitalized on the marketability of the tournament, while ignoring the spirituality and honor.

Jiten had run away, evading even Vegeta's keep senses.  Pan was a little sick of baby-sitting for her little cousin, but there was no way of getting around it.

She walked down the corridors, getting weaker and weaker, when she heard a soft thud as she turned the corner, and there was…

.

The leech stood over the little Saiyan girl, draining the last of her power, leaving only the tiniest spark that kept her alive.  He was barred from taking that.  He considered bashing her over the head to finish the job, but that seemed so childish, like stepping on a frog.  She'd die anyway.

The leech looked out the apartment window and tracked the movements of his little chess pieces.  Jiten had messed up a bit when he'd woken up the monk.  Although it was a little bit his own fault.  He hadn't warned Jiten enough taking from that particular couple.  They were the only two trained powerful warriors who slept in the same bed, so there was much more of a risk in taking from them.

What was done was done.  It was a little early for the true battle to begin, but at least everyone was so disoriented in the unexpected timing, as well as the earliness of the hour, that all carefully-laid plans had gone to shambles.

_Well_, thought the leech, _we're on slightly more equal footing now._

No, they weren't.  The leech started doing careful ki gauges of all the warriors zipping around from one place to another.  All the Saiyans except for the girl he'd just drained were at full power.  The leech frowned.  Jiten had only targeted humans…  No, it wasn't just that, for there were no humans where Jiten was now going.

Jiten hadn't targeted anyone in his family.

The leech supposed it was to be expected.  Jiten was young, and he'd only had a year to build the bond between them.  Most of the bond had been sleep-bonding, the shallowest form of bonding, and Jiten's impetus for bonding with him had been that he had nowhere else to go, and he couldn't leave the dimension.

For the first time since he'd scouted the planet, the leech began to doubt.

In almost a panic, the leech sent reassuring vibes to Jiten via their link.  _Don't worry, Jiten.  Everything is still going fine.  We're going to win this, and you're going to make me proud._

What he got back from Jiten was a sort of panicked confidence, as well as an eagerness to please.  However, Jiten was reassured, and still strongly attached to him.  As long as they could keep his parents from being wished back, all would be fine.

The leech looked back at the little Saiyan girl, sleeping so peacefully in bed, inches away from death.  If nothing happened to her now, she could be revived easily, or recover her strength in time.  But the leech could not protect her, nor did he want to.  A risk was always there when one possessed great power, and the girl was just finding that out now, as would the rest of them.  The leech pushed away his regret and waited.  No matter if Jiten had begun the battle early.  It was not his time yet.

.

Pecon's head jerked up to see Pan's mother land neatly in front of their little search party.  She had obviously just gotten out of bed, and looked all the more haggard without makeup.  Pecon pretended not to notice.

"What's everyone doing here?!" she asked in a commanding voice, belying her panic and already-encroaching fatigue.  It had been too long since she'd done anything like this.

Pecon bowed slightly, not really familiar with the mother of Pan and the daughter of Satan-san.  "Videl-san.  We are looking for the dragonball."

Videl stared at him for a couple of beats before screaming, "What?!  You mean you don't have it?!  I thought you and Pan had found all of them months ago!"

"Darjili dropped it," Danton commented from one side, still searching the ground.

Pecon saw that Darjili was hanging in the shadows, trying not to attract any attention.

"Trunks-san is supposed to be here any second now with the dragon radar," Pecon continued.  "That should help."

Videl crossed her arms.  "One more question.  Where's Pan?"

Everyone looked up sharply at that.  "I thought she was going to Capsule Corp," Krianan said weakly.

"I can't even sense her," Darjili said in hushed panic.

Just then Trunks touched down alongside the group, holding out the dragonball.  Darjili grabbed it from him, forgetting her manners, and began to fiddle with the settings.  "It's not anywhere near here," Darjili said under her breath.  "How can that be?"

"Trunks-san," Pecon said in a rush, though with a little more respect than Darjili.  "Was Pan at Capsule Corp?"

Trunks shook his head.  His eyes looked like he was already searching for Pan's ki, and drawing a blank.  "No," he said.  "Only Dad and Gohan are there now.  I've got to get back there pretty soon."

The others felt a rush behind them, and turned around.  Videl was gone.

Pecon waved away the others' worries.  "She'll check on Pan.  In the meantime, we need to find that dragonball.  Darjili, any luck tracking it."

They turned to see Darjili staring at the radar in confusion.

"What is it, Darjili?" Danton said impatiently.

Darjili looked up, incredulously visage still in place.  "The dragonball is… headed for Kami's Lookout."

Pecon nodded, not showing his confusion at all.  "Trunks-san, if you go back to Capsule Corp, then we'll go to Kami's Lookout and see who's gotten the dragonball."

Trunks nodded.  "If it's either Jiten or the leech, then I think I sense both Krillen and Piccolo in the area.  They'll back you up."

The four humans took off toward the Lookout, knowing Trunks hidden meaning.  _They'll do the actual fighting._

.

Krillen was already running toward the middle of the room as soon as he set foot on Korin's Tower.  Korin was waiting for him.  He could hear Yajirobe cooking below.

"Master Korin!" Krillen exclaimed, heart hammering so hard that he could barely catch his breath.  "Eighteen, she…"

Korin nodded calmly.  "I already know," he said in his raspy voice.  "Here's a senzu.  Quick, I feel her fading."

Krillen grabbed the senzu and force-fed Eighteen.  Her ki stabilized, but she didn't get up just yet.

"Give her a minute," Korin said when Krillen continued to look panicked.  "Even a cyborg can't survive without ki, and she was one spark away from death."

Krillen didn't look all that relieved.  Even though he had accomplished his goal, he couldn't come down from the panicked high.

"Master Korin," he said in a rush, in complete contrast to the collected cat in front of him, "You've been looking in those magic water jugs, haven't you?  What's going on on Earth?"

Yajirobe was uncharacteristically quiet as he mounted the stairs and handed Korin a cup of tea.  Of course, he could have just been extra drowsy and grouchy from his early wake-up call.  As usual, he was too rude to offer Krillen anything.  Krillen didn't care.

Korin laughed.  "You want to hear the present or the future?"

Krillen glared at Korin.  "You can't fool me with that again.  I know the future isn't written down in detail.  But the present is.  I need to know what's going on… and if I can help."

"Of course you can't help," Yajirobe mumbled.  "You're not even an alien.  Those are the only important people around anymore."

Yajirobe casually dodged a hit from Korin's staff, as if it were a daily occurrence.  However, he could not dodge Krillen glare.

"I know humans aren't as strong as Saiyan or Nameks," Krillen sneered.  "Or cyborgs or leeches or buu-monsters or whatever decides to kill us.  But we're not complete write-offs.  Take those students of Goten's and Jita's.  They're human, and they survive Saiyan training every day.  You can't write them off."

"What, you mean those kids who're falling all over themselves right now trying to find a stupid dragonball?" Yajirobe snorted.  "And the other humans are doing a lot of good, too."

Krillen's head jerked over to look at Korin.  "What does that mean?"

Korin shook his head, hating his new position of information-teller.  "Those Spider students think they've lost that dragonball, and they have.  Jiten's got it, and he's… well, he's here.  He's been hiding his ki… best job I've seen of that in a long time."

Krillen's eyes widened.  "Where?!"  He whipped around, scanning the pillars to see if Jiten was hiding somewhere.

Korin pointed upward.  "Up there… at Kami's.  Don't worry, Dende saw it coming."

"Worry," a deep female voice came from beside Krillen.  Eighteen was standing up, dusting herself off.  "We don't know what Jiten's capable of.  We know he can suck energy… at least while people are asleep.  And he doesn't have a source for this ability, like Gero had."

Something finally clicked in Krillen's mind.  "Wait… what did Yajirobe mean about the other humans."

Korin looked hesitant to answer that question.  "Well… Kame House wasn't the first of Jiten's stops."

Krillen's ki-sense immediately went broad-band.  He eschewed the obvious grouping of power – the Saiyans at Capsule Corp – and figured the small group of humans heading for their general direction would be the Spider students.  That left…

"Yamcha!  Tien… Chaotzu…  I can barely feel them!"

Korin nodded.  "They seem to have only the tiniest spark of ki left… which makes me wonder if the leech and Jiten can only take ki up to that point… hmmm…" the cat looked down in thought.

Krillen didn't have time for it.  For one thing, there was a sudden surge in power right above them.  The fight had begun.

Eighteen felt it too.  "Krillen, take some senzu and help the others.  Then go to Capsule Corp and leave some senzu there.  I'll go up and help against Jiten."

Krillen shook his head.  "But, Eighteen, you've just recovered.  You're still…"

"I'm fine," Eighteen barked.  "You know how effective senzu is.  And if I really get in trouble, Dende's there."

Eighteen was about to head up to Kami's Lookout when she looked back at Krillen.  "Stay and fight if you need to," she said evenly, "but don't get yourself killed.  You can't imagine how much of a pain it would be to wish you back to life."

Krillen grinned as she departed.

"Here," Yajirobe shoved a couple of bags into Krillen's hands.  "This is the stash we've been stockpiling.  Meant to give it to you tomorrow… or today… but you've got it anyway."

Krillen quickly tied the bag securely to his belt.  "No harm no foul, then.  See ya!"

Korin took a sip of his tea as the monk left.  "I hope those future visions were wrong," he said quietly.

.

**Reviewer thanks**:

**ClassicDrogn**: Wow, your review gave me a lot to think about.  The problem with the leech came in my adjustments to his character.  I'd originally planned a "har-har-har" villain, but then someone pointed out that I'd made the leech into a slightly sympathetic character.  That's where I came up with the whole Redyei chapter.  Now I'm going to have to adapt a little more, because you gave some valid points.  I think I'm going with the leech's motivation for the huge attack as being the only way he knows to do things, if that makes sense.  Anyway, I'll think of something.  Thanks for the readership and the review-y goodness.

**zara**** m**: ha-ha.  I'll take the hint about Sarie Mue.  If only I can get with my co-author more often… but of course that's a perpetual wish.

Of course, there weren't many reviews this time, because I updated so quickly.  sniff  I do miss reviews, though.  Especially from my old readers…  Where are you, Dark Wolf!!!


	47. Look Out

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**:  Wow, I've been on a writing binge lately.  I don't even care if I don't get reviews any more.  (Really, I don't.  Doesn't bother me a bit.  Nope.  sniffle  WAAHHHH!!!!)  Ok, I'm done with that.  Anyway, I'm really enjoying writing the action sequences.  I feel more like writing now.  It sort of breaks up the angst-fest a little.  Not too much, though.  I'm allowed to have angst-filled battles.  I'm also allowed to have cliffhangers, so you're not to complain.  Just be glad I'm writing, and enjoy the ride.

.

**Chapter 45: Look Out**

The sky was just starting to lighten, and birds were chirping, even in the middle of West Capital City.

The collected Saiyans, however, were none too cheered by promise of a new day.

Gohan and Trunks were both in the doorway quickly chugging black coffee in thermoses, compliments of one of the robot servants.  They were watching as Vegeta was pacing the front lawn, drumming his fingers nervously.  No matter how old he got, he never lost his impatience for a battle to begin.

Bulma pushed past the two demi-Saiyans.  "Well," she said, looking around, "where is he?"

Vegeta's eyes flashed in anger.  "Didn't I tell you to get to the underground lab, woman?  Do you enjoy the risk of imminent death?"

Bulma laughed easily, yet lit up a cigarette, something she only did when she was really nervous.  "Imminent death?  Come on, Vegeta.  Lighten up.  You've prepared too hard, and, besides, this is Jiten we're talking about.  You remember?  The little boy who wouldn't hurt anyone?"

Trunks nearly choked on his coffee.  "I don't remember that kid.  I _do_ remember a little kid who got into a lot of trouble, though."

Bulma whirled at him.  "_You_ got into a lot of trouble as a child, and I don't see you killing anyone while giving evil laughs."

"I wasn't raised for a year by a psychopath, either," Trunks retorted.  "Well… not really…"  He noticed the looks both Bulma and Vegeta were giving him.  "Uh… of course not."

"Who knows how Jiten is going to turn out," Gohan said.

"That won't matter," Bulma sniffed.  "No one can have that much influence over a person in a year.  There's no way he can be evil."

There was definite comfort in Bulma's logic, and it was attractive to keep believing that.

"I was destroying planets within a year of Frieza's… tutelage," Vegeta said quietly.

The others paused in the tense moment, but Bulma was not to be put off.  She pressed forward.

"Yeah, but you were destroying planets before then.  It was how you were raised."

Vegeta gave a sharp laugh.  "What do you take my parents for?  I mean, I was a child, for kami's sake.  Sure, I trained, and occasionally I would kill the sub-sentient creatures that passed for training drones… but I never killed a fully sentient being before then, much less purge an entire planet."  He looked at Bulma, his expression wry.  "I have Frieza to thank for that."

Bulma knew she had lost that little battle.  "What are you saying, Vegeta?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and looked away.  "I'm simply saying that a lot can happen in a year… and a psychopath can have a lot of influence."

The group was quiet for a minute.

"Not necessarily," Gohan said hesitantly.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow.  "You questioning me, boy?"

Gohan smiled.  No matter how old he got, he'd still be 'boy' to Vegeta.  "I didn't realize it at the time, but Piccolo was a degree short of a psychopath when he was raising me for a year.  Who else would plop a four-year-old in the wilderness and leave him for most of a year?  I mean, I was scared for life, obviously, but I don't think I've ever been considered evil."

The group was silent.  This time, they knew that the conversation was over when Vegeta said, "Where is he?!"

Trunks shifted.  "Well, it may take him a little while to get here.  Maybe he doesn't know the way from the Kame House.  He is a little kid, after all."

Gohan shrugged.  "Maybe he decided to attack someplace else."

Vegeta snorted.  "Preposterous."

Then they gasped as one, feeling the spike of the looked-for ki.

"What?  What is it?" Bulma said, hating the fact that she couldn't sense energy like the others.

"Crap!" Vegeta growled under his breath.  "That's Kami's Lookout!"  He took off in the sky like a shot.

"Trunks, you stay here… just in case," Gohan barked before taking off after Vegeta.

Trunks glared impotently from the ground.  "Why do I always have to do the boring jobs?"

.

Piccolo stared expressionlessly at the little boy, who looked like he was suddenly daunted by carrying out well-thought-out plans.

"Hey, kid," was his simple greeting.

Jiten clenched his fists, unsure of what move to make.  At first glance, Piccolo appeared to be resting against a pillar, perfectly relaxed.  However, Jiten could not find an opening to attack him.  Yet he needed to get the Namek's energy quickly.  Otherwise, the others would be there soon.  And serious firepower was heading for him.

For the first time, Jiten began to doubt the plans.  He understood the need and the logic for them.  It was the only way to truly break his ties with his old life.  Besides, it wasn't like they were killing anybody.

No, he was doubting if the plans could be carried off at all.

"Is that all you got to say to me?" he growled, buying a little time until he could think of something.

Piccolo smirked.  "If I know your mother, she'd be appalled at your grammar."

_Yeah, _he thought, _that's something Mom would say._

Jiten smirked.  "Well, I won't have to worry about that anymore.  Master doesn't care about my grammar."

Piccolo raised an eyeridge.  "Master, is it?  Would that be the leech?"

Jiten frowned.  He'd hoped that his declaration of loyalty would cause more of a reaction.  However, he remembered that it was very hard to faze the Namek.  "Yeah…" he said slowly.  He inched forward in a crouched position, ever wary.

Piccolo was not perturbed.  "Aren't you a little young to be going into service for someone else?"

Jiten snorted.  "Mom and Uncle Vegeta were…"

"Are you really going to use that example?" Piccolo interrupted.

Jiten frowned.  Of course he knew all about Frieza.  Alright, maybe he didn't know every single detail, as some had been deemed too graphic for his age.  But he knew enough that Frieza was evil, and had made his mother and Uncle Vegeta do some pretty horrible things.

_Just like me_, the thought came unbidden to Jiten.

What was he doing anyway?  He had to go to _this_ extent just to break his old ties to his life?  Wasn't this… overkill?  He remembered the still forms of Yamcha… Tien… Chaotzu… Eighteen… all his…

… victims…

.

The leech felt the change immediately – the simple wavering in the boy's faith and confidence.  The leech didn't truly understand what was happening, but he knew that he was slowly coming close to losing Jiten.  In an almost-panic, the leech sent waves of reassurance through the link.  This was one part of the battle he could not concede.  In some ways, this was the battle.

.

Jiten's eyes widened.  What was he thinking?  It wasn't like he was killing anyone or anything.  Once they got enough power, they would leave his family and Earth forever.  It wasn't like he was actually doing any permanent damage.

And even if he did kill someone, or if Hoja killed someone, they could just be wished back with the dragonballs.  His grandfather could easily transport to the Planet Namek and use the dragonballs to restore everyone.  They'd done it so many times before.  Why would it be a problem then?

"You trying to trick me, Piccolo," Jiten growled.  "It won't work."

"Shouldn't that be Piccolo-san?" Piccolo asked commandingly.

With a short scream of rage, Jiten powered up and lunged at Piccolo.  Fortunately, Piccolo had been expecting it.  Piccolo side-stepped the lunge, easily using his foot to trip Jiten.  Jiten went over the side, tumbling head over feet until he could gather his wits to fly.  Piccolo was waiting for him, staring at him.

_He's not even taking this fight seriously, like he would if any of the other Saiyans were fighting him.  Is it because I'm not a Super Saiyan, or because I'm young.  He's treating me like a child… that must be it._

Jiten was a little more careful with his next attack, wanting to prove that he was far more than a child.  To his credit, Piccolo had a far more difficult time dodging these controlled attacks.  However, he didn't lay a finger on the child.  Piccolo knew that he could outlast the boy at this rate, and then put him out of commission without as much trouble on the boy.

For a while, Piccolo was confident in his superior endurance.  Until…

He began to tire.  It was only a little at first, hardly noticeable, but definitely there.  Piccolo was confused at first.  He was used to the environment and thin air, something that he had over the boy.  And he was older and stronger, even with the stolen energy that Jiten was utilizing.

Stolen energy…

Jiten finally saw the look that he'd been waiting for in the Namek – the slow look of realization.  He began speeding up his attacks, aiming for the small expenditure of energy that each of Piccolo's dodges emitted, drawing them into himself… with a tiny bit more he was able to leech.

Piccolo gave a startled look and began to retreat, but Jiten pressed the attack.  He knew that Piccolo's only option would be to fight, and that just made it easier to leech… whether with physical or energy attacks.  Jiten was more than ready to use either against the Namek.

Sure enough, Piccolo began to block and counterblow each attack.  Jiten began blocking as well, his energy-gathering abilities turned on full throttle.  Piccolo definitely noticed the difference then.  However, Jiten was so intent on gathering energy that he failed to see the knee to his gut until it connected.

Jiten was thrown backwards through the air.  He clutched his stomach reflexively, trying to gain purchase of his senses.  When he finally did, it was just in time to see a huge energy blast heading his way.

_Idiot._

With a smirk, Jiten concentrated on the energy, looking at it as if he were ready to swallow it.  In fact, that was just the feeling that he needed before he sucked it into himself, integrating it with his own ki.

Piccolo was not one to stare at the boy in shock.  Instead, he was already flying in for the attack.

Jiten also saw that coming.  In fact, he was expecting it.  It was one of those strategies that Hoja had trained him against.  Yet he didn't back off.  He merely stuck his hands straight out, and…

Piccolo didn't notice it immediately.  The boy hadn't moved.  He thought for a second that Jiten had frozen up in fear, much like Gohan had in their battle against Nappa.

Then he felt the sharp pain in his midsection, as well as the sudden nauseas feeling of energy being taken forcefully from his body, like he was getting beat up real fast with shallow punches.

He looked down.  First he saw the boy's smirking, yet elated, face.  He followed the boy's arms down to his own stomach, and saw that the fingers were imbedded in his abdomen, purplish blood slowly darkening his gi.

Before he gathered his thoughts enough to think that he needed to back away from the boy, the Namek had passed out.

.

Gohan gasped in shock, drawing the attention of the older Saiyan.  He suddenly gritted his teeth and surged forward with a burst of power.

"Hang on, Piccolo!" he yelled.

After that, Vegeta felt it too.  Piccolo's ki had dropped to almost nonexistent.  Vegeta glared and flew faster as well.  If that was what he thought it was, Bulma may have been wrong about the boy.

Vegeta just hoped it wasn't too late.

.

Eighteen approached the boy quietly.  Her mind raced.  The fight had been over too quickly for her to actually do anything.  Same as everyone else.  She knew that everyone had felt the fight, and they were probably currently rushing to the scene.

But they would take a while, and Eighteen was left to face the child now.

Jiten turned slowly to face her, still in the throws of the high that so much power gave him.  Inwardly, Eighteen winced.  She had scene the same reaction from adult fighters when they ascended or whatever, but they were mature enough to keep it under control.  Jiten was not.  He could easily become an addict to that power, and quickly become a dangerous monster because of it.

Eighteen flinched as Jiten frowned.  "I thought I took care of you," he said calmly.

Eighteen pressed her lips together in a white line.  "Apparently not," she said.

Jiten shrugged.  "I guess you really did get to those senzu beans in time.  Got some on you?  He may need some," he snickered, pointing to the bleeding green form.

Eighteen forced herself not to look at Piccolo.  It would have given Jiten the perfect opportunity to attack her, and she wasn't going to let that happen, not when she'd just gotten back on her feet.  Instead, she studied the boy's movements and stance.

True to his heritage, Jiten was standing proudly, crossing his arms in the most arrogant way possible.  He had a bored look on his face while facing Eighteen, as if she really weren't worth his time.  He had defeated his already, albeit in her sleep, so he must have felt he had grounds to feel that way.

However…

Eighteen couldn't help but notice after a moment that Jiten was sagging slightly.  It confused her.  Jiten had just won a battle without expending any energy.  In fact, he was fairly crackling with the stolen ki, which had been added to his own.  With so much ki, his endurance shouldn't have been overtaxed, or even affected.  Of course, she didn't use ki all that much.  She needed it to survive, the same as any other living thing, but it was undetectable and hidden within her real power source – the never-ending supply that Dr. Gero had "gifted" her with at her birth as a cyborg.

As such, she couldn't tell what was going on with Jiten.  All she knew was that she needed to stall until the Saiyans got there.  With that stolen ki, Jiten was easily her match and beyond.

"So are we just gonna stand here?" Jiten broke into her thoughts.  "Because I've got things to do."

Eighteen quirked an eyebrow up.  "Since when did you get so disrespectful?  I know Jita didn't raise you to be like this."

Jiten frowned.  Eighteen had apparently struck a nerve.

Then he gritted his teeth.  "She didn't raise me… not at all.  Mom and Dad hid things from me, admit it.  They were just holding me back.  I learned more under my master than Mom would ever teach me.  She was too busy thinking up punishments to actually teach me, anyway."

Eighteen couldn't think of a thing to respond to his nonsense.  She wanted to scream at him that he was being foolish, and that his mother and father loved him more than he could ever dream.  She couldn't imagine how their child could think any differently, just as she couldn't imagine that Marron would think any differently of her, despite the fact that she wasn't the most affectionate mother on the planet.  She and Jita were alike in that respect.  They didn't show the traditional maternal love, but it was there, and it was strong.

Yet Eighteen knew about doubting a parent's love, and how easily it can sway the young.  Eighteen had no illusions that her own pseudo-father, Dr. Gero, ever had any feeling for her and her brother other than as tools for his own personal revenge.  He proved his regard for them enough with his design of Cell.  However, though they didn't really show it, the knowledge of that lack of love drove her and Seventeen to the heights of rage… even to the point of murdering the man.

The leech had obviously held powerful sway over the young Saiyan, feeding the impressionable child with those doubts, as well as being the dream guardian.  Jiten only knew that the leech never punished him and never taught him anything that Jiten didn't want to deal with.

Eighteen knew that Jiten's heart had been won.

.

The two gods looked cautiously at the Saiyan woman, who was sitting silently from her vantage point around the crystal ball.  Jita had been silent all through Jiten's attacks.  Occasionally she would shake her head, as if do deny that it was her child she was seeing.

And the fact that her name being invoked was not enough to sway the boy.

"Don't worry," Kaioshin said quietly.  "It isn't over yet.  The leech cannot have gained that much control over Jiten.  There's still hope that he'll come around."

Jita didn't look like she was going to say anything.  She was too busy worrying.

_Was there anything I could have done differently?_

.

"I'll show you what my master taught me!" Jiten growled.

It looked like Eighteen couldn't stall any more.  She dodged as the boy lunged, and tried a counterblow.  She didn't know that Piccolo had done the same thing, so Jiten was ready this time.  He flipped around and planted a leg in her midsection, pushing Eighteen back a few yards.

Eighteen was on the move as soon as she lost her momentum.  She continued back, wanting to get out of reach of that attack that Jiten had used against Piccolo.  From there she found herself dodging energy attacks.

The energy attacks were small, designed to beat down a person's ki just enough that someone could get within their defenses, but not enough that a person lost a significant amount of ki.  Eighteen guessed that the style was economical, considering the strategy of a leech.  However, they were slightly erratic and unpracticed, easily avoidable for someone who was used to ki-intensive fights.  In fact, it slightly reminded her of fighting with Vegeta when he got extremely angry.

But she began to get bored with dodging, as well as with waiting for reinforcements.  With a child this unfocused, she could definitely put a dent in him, if not finish him off before the Saiyans got there.  Her face went cold as she steeled herself for attacking a child, automatically becoming more machine-like in the face of doing something that went against the morals that she'd learned from her family.

She saw Jiten smirk, and knew that he could tell that she was going to start blasting him in turn.  She ignored it.  She knew that Jiten could suck energy right from the air, but she had to at least try.  Palm-out, she carefully aimed, noting that Jiten was making no movement to dodge the attack, and was in fact concentrating on her attack.  Smoothly and mechanically, she let loose the attack.

It hit.

Jiten was thrown down to the floor of the Lookout, creating a shallow indenture in the marble tiles.  He made no move to get up, obviously astounded that the attack could have hit him.  It was obvious that he'd tried his best to leech it, and he'd failed.

Eighteen smiled coldly in triumph.  She had been right.  Over the past year, she had trained herself out of the habit of using her human ki as well as her internal android power.  She'd already known that the leech could take ki, but she didn't know about any other kind of energy.  So she'd trained herself in attacks that only used her internal energy.  Apparently, she'd been right to do so.

"Who needs the Saiyans?" she said under her breath as she prepared another attack.

.

Jiten pulled himself from the broken marble.  He was not having a good time now.

He moved fast, dodging the next attack this time.  He didn't know what was going on.  All he knew was that he suddenly couldn't leech energy, and therefore had lost his main advantage.

Not only that, he'd lost the ability to do the job with which Hoja had entrusted him.  He was sent out to get as much energy as possible so that both he and Hoja could be super-powerful.  He'd already screwed up by waking everyone up and starting the battle too early.  Now he was in danger of completely screwing up his mission.

He grimaced.  He couldn't fail Hoja like that.  Not the only man who'd ever understood him.  He couldn't fail him, not now.

Jiten winced as one of the blasts tore at his arm, ripping the cloth and leaving a tiny cut.  He knew that he could dodge better than that, but his new limitation was worrying him to distraction.  He just couldn't focus.  Besides that, he had no idea how to beat her.

Jiten's eyes widened suddenly.  The Saiyans were within a few miles.

Jiten began to get frantic, knowing that he was trapped.  _I've got to get back to master.  He'll tell me what's wrong, and it may be that I need to give some of this power to him.  Piccolo-san had more ki than I could handle._

Without warning, he turned one of his dodges into a leap, bounding off the Lookout in the opposite direction of the approaching Saiyans.  He flew as fast as he could, intent only on putting as much distance between him and the other fighters as possible.

He was so intent on that that he didn't notice the energy attack until it was too late.  Eighteen's blast hit him squarely in the back, and he went plummeting through the miles down, finally smashing into the forest below.

.

Pecon and the other Spider students were flying low when they saw it happen.  They'd felt the battle high above in the Lookout, and knew that the cautious approach would be best.  Besides, it looked like Eighteen was holding her own.

As such, they were only minimally surprised when they saw Jiten crash down with monumental force – force that made a small clearing in the forest.

Pecon almost felt a surge of indignity at the android.  _Did you have to hit him so hard?  He's only a child!_

_A child that's been leeching energy off everyone, that now serves the man who killed his parents, and, if it was his way, who would prevent them from wishing his father back to life._

Pecon knew all this, but he couldn't help the surge of protectiveness at the memory of the falling child.

"Come on!  He may be hurt!" he heard Darjili yell.  He was glad she'd said it.  He almost didn't feel right in saying it.  He was the enemy, wasn't he?

No.  The child of Goten and Jita could never be the enemy.

The four landed in the clearing.  In the middle of the opening trees was a small smoking crater, deeper than it was wide.  And there was no sign of Jiten.

"He must be in that hole," Krianan whispered.

Pecon edged forward cautiously, aware of any attacks that Jiten may be planning.  He couldn't feel the boy's ki, but, as shown before, Jiten could hide his ki extremely effectively, even while flying.  He could be planning anything.

After a few moments of nothing happening, and feeling nothing, Pecon felt bold enough to peer down in the hole that Jiten had made.  He flinched, hoping not to feel the burn of a ki-blast in his face, as he scanned the hole.

The hole was so dark, he could barely see.  Considering that Jiten had been wearing all black, and that his hair was black, then he might still have been in the hole.  Pecon, steeling himself, reached in and felt around.  He grabbed one thing, noting the smooth and hard texture of it, and threw it over his shoulder.

He could find nothing else.

Pecon pulled himself out of the hole, only to stare at what the other three Spider students had been staring at the whole time.

There, on the ground, was the six-star dragonball.

And Jiten was nowhere to be seen.

.

Reviewer thanks:

Dark Wolf:  Yay!! You're alive!  By the time you get here, you'll have probably left another review.  Anyway, whatever.  I'm glad you've had a busy summer, what with Mrs. Wolf and football and all.  Yeah, I had fun with the twisted gay Trunks dream thing.  You know me with my weird vision scenes.  I'm glad to see you back.  Oh, and Howler says, "Aroo?"

Classicdrog:  Believe, I know Krillen's worth.  When I fight Howler in Budoukai 2, he always plays as Krillen and beats me into the ground.  Of course, it could be that he's just better at video games than I am…  Anyway, I'm not discounting Krillen's fighting ability.  He has some of the best designed attacks ever.  But he's just not the type to jump in the fray like… well… any of the Saiyans.  He'd be more likely to run around and make sure everyone of the sidelines doesn't die… like I'm having him now.  Now, will he get to Pan while _someone_ is still in her apartment, I wonder?

Engar:  Nice to finally meet you!  I'm glad you've been enjoying my story.  Has it been two years?!  Yeah… I guess it has.  Ha-ha.  Anyway, about Goten.  He annoys me too.  I guess that's why I have him smacked around so much.  But, of course, not everyone's going to be cool.  I need someone truly annoying in there, and then actually point out that they're wrong… or something like that.  I feel sorry for Goku sometimes too.  I just don't think he's the family type of guy.  He's also the type to step on peoples' feelings without even realizing it.  I guess I'm trying to catch that dynamic.  Whatever.  Hope to hear from you more around the end of the story.  I'll be trying to update quicker, though the chapters will be slightly smaller.

Ilex9:  I am always glad to see a new reader… and be expecting a review from me for your own story.  It looks to be an interesting premise… at least more interesting than the initial premise of "The Soul."  Ha-ha.  Of course, when I came up with the idea for the story, I didn't know it was overused.  Heck, I was still reading Bulma/Vegeta romances.  (Yes, I really was that far gone.  Hasn't everyone at some point?  It does seem that we have a similar sense of humor.  Those that you mentioned were my favorite parts as well.  I do blush at your criticisms of Jita's characterization, though, because they're things I've done that are a little strange.  I guess I injected a little of myself into Jita's character with the love of reading.  It was an early idea that stuck.  The only other reader in the bunch is Gohan, and he's just not much of a character in my story.  And I wanted to stick little literary jokes in, just for my own sanity.  (By the way, I was wondering if _anyone_ would catch the reference to Proust.  I read _Swann's Way _last year, and it's just one of those books that you don't really like until you've finished with it.  Sort of like an accomplishment just to finish it.  Maybe I should have Vegeta read Faulkner as well… nah, I wouldn't be that evil.)  And, yes, I did screw up with Jita's cleanliness… although I could explain it as the passage of time.  Jita could have started out trying to prove that she could be a good wife and mother, no matter what her past was like.  Prove it to other people as well as herself.  But then obligations to Jiten and the dojo got in the way of cleaning and stuff.  Unlike Chichi, Jita is a working mother with little time on her hands and a lot of people living at her house.  Anyway, enough of my shoddy explanations.  Let's see… "Reign of Fire was a movie I'd seen just before writing the chapter, and me and my boyfriend made fun of the movie through the whole thing.  I was trying to think of a bad movie that was fairly recent, and that just came to mind.  Especially since I like dragons and had such high hopes for it.  I never thought of the Seinfeld-ish quality of "Hello Vegeta," but it's certainly making me laugh right now.  Trunks pulling pranks in the library… have you ever seen that British show on Comedy Central from a couple of years ago called _Trigger Happy TV_?  That's where that came from.  I guess with "face-faulting" and stuff I'm just denting the fourth wall a bit.  You should read Sarie Mue.  (heh-heh)  I'm glad you like the chapter about the Spider students, because I worked hard on it and wasn't really all that satisfied with it.  You've put my mind to rest.  Yes, I think that original Dragonball characters are awesome, especially since I've read the manga.  I've always thought Taopiepie rocked, as well as people like Uranai Baba and Korin.  I'm just glad I could download some of the later uncut Dragonball episodes.  They're so much better than, say, those first two episodes.  (Master Roshi wanting Bulma to… um… fix him up with… um… one of her _mother's _older friends.  Yeah…)  Anyway, I think I've rambled on enough.  (Marquez is the man.)  If you're wanting a little less of a heavy read, though, look into Peter David.  Especially with the pop culture references and the wry humor.  Some of his books are _Knight Life_ and _Sir Apropos of Nothing_ (with the sequel _The Woad to Wuin_.)  He's also written the Spider-man movie novelizations, which are excellent, and several Star Trek books.  Sorry… I just had to plug him, since he's become my favorite humor writer.  Hope to be hearing more from you. 

.

Ha-ha-ha.  Is Jiten dead?  You know I won't hesitate to kill people… in fanfiction.  (clears throat and edges away).

Until next time.


	48. Playing a Part

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**: I'm an update junkie now!!... don't think it'll last, though. School's just around the corner. Heh-heh. Anyway, this chapter is maybe a page longer… but full of action!! And I'm not even around to the main characters yet! Gosh, when will Goten get to the end of Snake Way… I mean… get wished back with the dragonballs. Am I using the show's overused conventions?! Maybe so, but it's fun. Hee-hee. See y'all!

**Chapter 46: Playing a Part**

"Where is he?! Find him!"

"Au….ch….kkk…."

"Jita," Kaioshin said quietly, "perhaps he could answer if you released his throat."

With a snarl, Jita let go of Rou Dai Kaioshin's tunic collar. He landed in a seated position with a huff, rubbing his throat.

"Is that any way to treat a god?" he complained.

Jita glared at him even harder. "In legend, the Saiyans killed our gods. Do you want to meet the same fate?"

"Don't you think we need to look for Jiten?" Kaioshin cut in, raising his hands pleadingly.

Jita crossed her arms and glared at the crystal ball. Really, she was scared to death. She couldn't feel Jiten's ki anywhere. Of course, she hadn't been able to feel him when he was hiding his power, but that hadn't been coupled with a mysterious disappearance.

Still looking indignant at the rough treatment, Rou Dai Kaioshin concentrated on the ball and searched for the missing demi-Saiyan.

.

Vegeta's temper wasn't faring much better.

"What did you do to him?!" the prince yelled at Eighteen.

Said cyborg was staring wide-eyed in the direction that Jiten had fallen. She didn't say a word.

Vegeta was not to be put off. He advanced on her threateningly. "I asked a question, android. What did you do to him?"

Everyone expected Eighteen to be angry at Vegeta's questioning… and well as name-calling. Instead, she turned around, seeming almost in a panic.

"I… I didn't hit him that hard!" she sputtered. "I just wanted to slow him down."

"Well, you certainly did that," Vegeta sneered.

By this time, Dende had come out from below. "Piccolo!" he screamed upon seeing his prone mentor.

Gohan was already kneeling over him. He'd pulled off his weighted turban and cape, knowing that the clothing was slowly killing him while he was at that low level of ki.

Dende lightly pushed Gohan back. "Here, let me." Dende stretched out his arms and healed the Namek, restoring him to full power. The tiny wounds in his stomach closed up, although the little tears in his gi remained.

Gohan shuddered as he studied the remains of the wounds. There was no other way to interpret… Those had been made by fingers.

Piccolo signified his return to life by coughing lightly. Dende backed up, a little dizzy. Physical wounds were easy to heal – that was something that came naturally to Nameks. Depletions of ki… were a bit more difficult.

"Piccolo-san," Gohan said tentatively.

Piccolo smirked grimly. "Hey, kid. Took you long enough to get here."

Gohan laughed a little. "I'm glad to see you're all right."

Piccolo rubbed his forehead, noting the loss of his turban. He tried to pull it back on, but had to stop when a dizzy spell hit him.

"Take it easy," Dende said. "You were mostly dead. Take a minute."

Piccolo nodded, but was frustrated by his weakness, especially with what all was going on. "Where's Jiten?" he ground out.

Gohan and Dende looked over at Vegeta and Eighteen. Vegeta was starting to get crazy-mad, and Eighteen was regaining herself from the shock.

"Look, Vegeta," she said as she crossed her arms, "I did what I had to do."

Vegeta looked away, not wanting to accept any of her excuses.

Eighteen shook her head. "It's not like he's gone forever. We can wish him back with the dragonballs…"

"What dragonballs?!" Vegeta burst out. "We've lost one, remember? Or did you forget that when you were killing my sister's child?!"

That's when Eighteen slugged him hard in the mouth.

Vegeta wasn't expecting it. If he had, or if he hadn't been in the middle of freaking out, then Eighteen wouldn't have come close to decking him. As it was, Vegeta was completely unprepared, and so landed on the scorched marble tiles with a thud.

"Now you listen, Vegeta," Eighteen said in her most commanding voice. "I didn't even want to fight the child, but he pressed the attack. I was doing him a favor by keeping him away from that leech. You may be able to delude yourself into thinking that Jiten hasn't been affected by the monster, but you're wrong. He spoke about his 'master' like he was the best thing that ever happened to him. So… back off."

Vegeta seemed to have come to his senses. He got up and brushed himself off deliberately, regarding the cyborg the entire time. His scowl had turned sullen, but that only meant that he was accepting reason.

"Be glad we've got other things to do, woman," he said roughly.

That tiny conflict ended, Darjili deemed it a good time to speak up. She and the other Spider students had snuck up to the Lookout during the commotion, and didn't want to interrupt an irate Vegeta.

"Um," she said, "we… got the dragonball." She held up the dragonball with a weak smile.

The others turned as a whole, stunned at the acquisition.

"That's great!" Gohan broke the silence. "Where did you find it?"

Danton cleared his throat. All of the Spider students were a little uncomfortable with being the center of attention now. "I… think Jiten had it on him."

The mood immediately darkened.

"Did you see Jiten?" Vegeta demanded.

The four of them shook their heads. "There wasn't a trace of him," Pecon said.

Vegeta looked off to the side stubbornly. No one wanted to speak.

Piccolo frowned. Something about that wasn't quite right. "There wasn't a trace of him at all?" he spoke up.

"That's what he just said!" Vegeta barked, not wanting to think about what had happened to the boy.

Eighteen looked at Piccolo in understanding. "So you mean…"

Piccolo nodded. "Vegeta, you're not thinking. They're saying that Jiten was vaporized."

Vegeta looked at Piccolo incredulously. He couldn't believe that Piccolo would be so callous. Even Vegeta in his heyday wouldn't have just kept talking about a little boy being killed.

It finally dawned on Gohan. "But, wait a minute! Eighteen's blast wasn't even strong enough to vaporize a good-sized rock, much less a fairly strong Saiyan."

"And he still had all that power to protect him," Piccolo concluded.

Vegeta looked at everyone in surprise. "Of course," he said softly. "The brat can also hide his power extremely well. We wouldn't know if he was alive or dead."

"Could he still be in the area?" Dende asked.

Darjili crossed her arms. "Doubtful. We were right there when he fell. It's like he complete disappeared. We couldn't even hear anything, and there were no tracks."

Eighteen was busy scanning the area. "I don't read any Saiyan life-forms down there. There are a few natives, but they give off a different signal than Saiyans."

"So he knows how to teleport," Vegeta concluded.

"But that's impossible," Gohan said.

"Think, boy," Vegeta said in an exasperated tone. "The leech teleported in and out last year. Don't you think he would have taught Jiten?"

Gohan frowned and crossed his arms. He was used to Vegeta, but he was still getting a little fed up. "Yeah, well, it's not Dad's style of teleportation. He tried to teach me several years back. Believe me, it would take more than a year of constant practice to master it. So, no, it's not teleportation."

"Excuse me," came a polite voice behind them.

"Then what is it?!" Vegeta exclaimed.

"Excuse me," the voice repeated, not in the least perturbed.

"Yes, Mr. Popo," Piccolo said… partly to shut Vegeta up. "What is it?"

"There seems to be a dimensional aberration in the spot that Jiten landed." Mr. Popo sounded as nonchalant as if he were talking about the weather.

Krianan was stumped. "Uh… excuse me, but does that explain anything?"

Gohan's eyes widened. "A lot, actually. Jiten and the leech disappeared into that unreachable dimension for a year. It's possible that they can go back and forth whenever they want."

"So it's just as conceivable that they would be in that other dimension right now as if they were on Earth," Pecon said, frowning at the wording.

"The enemy," Vegeta winced at calling Jiten enemy, "is hiding too well for us to find right now. Our best move would be to get the dragonballs together to wish Goten back. That was the plan in the first place. If either the leech or Jiten starts something again while we're doing this, we have enough fighters to take care of it for now."

"By the way," Piccolo said, "who's missing?"

There was a momentary pause.

"Krillen went to check on Yamcha, Tien, and Chaotzu. Korin said that Jiten got to them first," Eighteen supplied.

"Trunks is at Capsule Corp," Gohan commented.

"Kakarrot's a worthless puddle of self-pity," Vegeta added sarcastically.

The fact that no one contradicted him or took offense bore witness to the effect that Goku's attitude was having on people.

Vegeta was suddenly annoyed. "Gah! We don't have time for this!" He was about to take off, not even caring now if anyone followed him.

"Wait!" yelled Gohan. "Where's Pan? She's not at Capsule Corp!"

Darjili looked up, her eyes wide. "Sh-she's not? Videl-san went to find her."

It was just then that everyone felt a presence.

.

Videl walked up the stairs to her daughter's apartment. It was nearing daylight, and even the late-night partiers had already passed out. She could smell whiffs of smoke that bled into the hallway, in spite of how much air freshener that hung sickly sweet in the air.

This had not been Videl's idea of the ideal place for her daughter to live.

Videl shook away the old arguments as she came to the door. She was really just thinking that to keep from worrying about Pan… and it wasn't really helping. Taking a breath, she knocked on the door.

The door was pushed open by her soft knocks.

Videl frowned. She'd used her usual controlled strength, and it shouldn't have affected a closed door, much less a locked door…

… providing the door had been locked in the first place.

Videl's first instinct was actually pretty silly. She'd considered calling the police. That's what any normal human would have done, considering the door was unlocked, it was at night, and she was alone. But, of course, she'd been stronger, smarter, and more efficient than the police since junior high… as shown by her unofficial service record.

No, the people to call would be the Z-warriors, and they would sense it if she were in trouble, especially since everyone was on the alert.

Cautiously, in a defensive position, Videl slipped into the shadows. She was already halfway through the living room when she remembered that she could have turned on the lights. She huffed softly and started to try to work her way back.

Then the lights came on.

Videl whipped around, her heart going to wild that she almost couldn't breathe. It was like the lights had given her an electric shock as they came on.

The turned to the door leading outside to see if her escape was still clear. It wasn't.

Videl's mouth hung open, shallow pants emitting from it, as she gazed at her brother-in-law's killer. He was smiling serenely back at her.

"Ah, you must be… Aunt Videl, I think?" he said in a soft voice.

Videl couldn't stop herself from trembling. Unlike the other humans, she'd never been a real warrior. The first time she'd faced someone far beyond her strength she'd been beaten to within an inch of her life. Usually self-preservation would kick in.

It didn't. Instead, she ran to Pan's open bedroom door.

She didn't get very far. She stopped just short enough to avoid crashing into the leech's chest.

Videl gritted her teeth, trying to sound more confident than she actually was. "What have you done to my daughter?" she said slowly.

The leech cocked his head, looking slightly puzzled. "Um… black hair? Short thing? Favors an orange bandana?"

Videl didn't know what game he was at, so she played along, giving him the shallowest of nods.

The leech grinned. "Thought so. She's in there." He turned his head toward the bedroom behind him to emphasize his point.

Videl's rage connected, dispelling all fear within a second. She could feel barely a spark of Pan's ki, and knew that he had done something. Head roaring with wrath, she powered up her fist and hit the man in front of her in the stomach with all the strength in her body. She grinned maniacally as the fist broke through the leather and sank beneath his clothes. She almost expected her fist to come out the other side.

Videl stopped smiling when the leech turned his head around slowly, looking at her with a look bordering between pity and boredom. Videl tried to pull her hand back and retreat slightly. But she couldn't. Her hand was stuck.

"Attacking without defenses. Aren't we sloppy today?" the leech commented with a slight smile, tightening the grip he had on Videl's wrist. He was keeping it immobile against his upper stomach.

Videl started pulling away more frantically, kicking with both legs alternately. She was close enough to perhaps trip his legs and knock him down long enough to get free and retreat. But it was like a regular human trying to kick down stone pillars.

Videl tried to intensify her attack, but, to her horror, her attacks actually seemed to be getting weaker.

"That's right," the leech muttered almost comfortingly, "keep moving… I almost have it all…"

Videl stopped abruptly and looked up at the leech in undisguised fear. He was… draining her as she moved. He was killing her!

Just as he'd done to Pan.

Videl gritted her teeth hard. She wanted nothing better to do than to eviscerate the _thing_ in front of her. She wanted nothing better than to step over his broken body on the way to her precious daughter. She wanted nothing better than to collapse in a weeping puddle over the frustration over her situation and worry and fear over her daughter.

Yet she stayed still, knowing what would happen if she didn't. She forced herself to stay still… and wait.

The leech continued smiling, an almost happy light in his eyes. "You're smart, Videl. Of course, I gave you a hint, but still, you deserve points. Unfortunately, it doesn't change much. I can still gain your energy. It'll just take longer."

Videl's eyes widened as the leech concentrated and she began to feel the miniscule gradual energy loss again. She forced her head to stop screaming with frustration and sense if any of the others would be getting there any time soon.

She could almost focus, but her ki-sense scattered as her vision started to go. The energy was flowing freely now, and she knew she didn't have much longer to go.

At the end of the long dark tunnel her failing vision had made, all she could see was the serene smile of the leech, beaming almost beatifically down on her.

.

Gohan nearly screamed as he felt it. "Videl! No!"

By that time he was already in the air, cursing himself for never learning the teleportation technique.

His eyes were wide with unshed tears. He was going to get there too late… and there would be no one to save Videl and Pan.

.

"Enough!" Trunks screamed. "I can't wait anymore!"

He'd been pacing the front yard like crazy, his ki-sense going wild. He'd sensed everything, and had supplied appropriate reactions until he'd just gotten fed up with it.

Bulma and Bra, on the other hand, were looking at him in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. Bulma had no ki-sense, and Bra didn't have one that was very strong at all. She'd given up trying to find out what was happening from Trunks, and mostly just stayed out of his way now.

"Where are you going, Trunks?!" Bulma screamed as he took off.

"To save Videl!" he yelled back.

Bra looked at her mother in shock, questions still in her eyes.

Bulma simply shook her head. "Don't even ask right now, Bra. We aren't going to find out anything until after everything's done. Just get used to it."

.

The leech held the woman out at arms' length. She'd already lost consciousness, making the final absorption a breeze. He sighed at having to take another human's energy, but there wasn't anything to help that. She'd shown up on her own, and she had to pay the price. She would have caused enough trouble, kept him occupied until the other warriors got there, and just made everything difficult. He was off his strategy enough already. It was either knock her out or steal her energy. There was no way he was wasting even that little bit of energy.

He looked down at her almost fondly. The humans sure were a quaint species. Every one of them thought themselves different – special – strong. They all believed that they had something to give.

It was especially laughable in such creatures as the woman he had in front of him. She knew all about the strong warriors of Earth, partly from his own research and observations, and partly from Jiten's conversation and memories. This girl was the daughter of Hercule Satan, the self-proclaimed hero of Earth who'd earned his championship title by: 1) winning a Budoukai where the reigning champion didn't participate, 2) claiming having done what Gohan had done, and 3) being blackmailed by androids. His daughter was stronger than him, but she was still the weakest of the human fighters… including the Spider students, now.

And even the other humans were jokes compared to the Saiyans. They couldn't do anything in battle without being outclassed and having to be protected. They trained hard, but it never amounted to anything, especially since they couldn't find more strength within a fight like the Saiyans could.

The leech wondered why they even bothered. The woman was spurred on by maternal instinct. What was the others' excuse?

That was when the hand holding the woman departed from the rest of his body.

The leech gave a short scream in pain, the red of his blood flashing before his eyes. The sudden detachment from the last bit of the woman's power made him nauseous. Stubbornly he pushed back the bile and forced his stump of an arm under the opposite armpit, trying to staunch the flow.

"Ha ha!! Take that!" he heard a voice from the window exclaim.

The leech turned slowly to regard his attacker. It was a short human who looked to be in his late fifties and early sixties. He was holding a glowing yellow disk of ki with serrated edges above his left palm. And the man had no nose.

_Krillen_, the leech reminded himself, trying to get his brain to push past the pain.

"That's," the leech gasped out, "a pretty impressive attack."

Krillen frowned, edging backward away from the apartment window slightly. "You're a killer," he said almost matter-of-factly. "You killed Jita and Goten. You kidnapped Jiten and perverted him to be your own slave. You had him attack Yamcha, Tien, Chaotzu, and Piccolo. So you attacked them. You attacked Pan and Videl." Krillen's lips started shaking, even if his hand didn't. "You attacked my _wife_," he ended in a near whisper.

The leech knew Krillen to be a monk. He was loyal to his friends and family. He was as much as pacifist as a fighter could be. And squeamish in confrontations.

Yet, now, with his family threatened and his friends killed, with the wicked-looking disk of ki glowing malevolently in his hand, he looked like Death Incarnate for the leech.

The leech knew that this was a man who had been pushed too far. A man who wouldn't hesitate to cut him limb for limb if that's what it took to keep him from hurting anyone else. A man to be feared.

The leech felt a second wave of nausea overtake him as he considered his options. He dared not move. There was no room to maneuver in the small apartment. Krillen had the windows blocked. There was less room in the hallway and stairwell outside the door. And his vision was starting to go from the loss of blood.

If fact, he was dying.

The leech cursed himself for lingering too long in one place. Surely he should have realized that someone would be checking up on a missing warrior, no matter how inconsequential she seemed.

_If I die now, I'll just transfer my consciousness into Jiten's body and take over that, just like I did ever other acolyte. It's really no big deal. I didn't mean for it to happen this early in the fight, but I'll still win in the end. After all, that's why I used Jiten in the first place. That's why I use anyone._

There was one problem. He didn't want that to happen to Jiten.

It was funny. It was like he wasn't the same person he'd been for millennia. Of course, technically he was. No matter what bodily changes he went through, the soul was always essential.

Those changes every time he inhabited acolytes and made them the masters were merely coincidental.

_I can't do this to Jiten! I… don't want him to die. Not like I did!_

_…And why am I referring to Redyei as "I"?_

The leech thought of the young boy… so painfully young. And innocent. Mischievous, and slightly misguided now, and impressionable, but definitely still innocent. He was a boy filled with trust, just wanting someone to love him and respect him, which he'd thought the leech had done.

_It's nothing. Just something I do. A biological need… an ability. A survival mechanism. It's why I recruited him in the first place._

_I… I can't do this to him. I can't kill him!_

The leech closed his eyes, grasping at the threads of the universe. _Sorry, Jiten. You'll have to do the next little bit on your own_, he thought to his acolyte. He smiled. What he was doing was bad battle strategy. Definitely bad. A certain wrong move, soaking in sentimentality.

With one last bloody smile, the leech winked out of that dimension.

.

Krillen screamed loudly and threw the disk into the air, letting it slice straight up. He belatedly realized that the ki could cut through a satellite. But since he felt no life readings right above him, he found that he really didn't care.

Krillen rushed into the apartment, looking around cautiously to see if the leech were laying a trap for him in his supposed sudden absence. The coast seemed to be clear, however. The leech had really gone.

Videl was lying in the middle of the leech's blood, which was making an unsightly stain in the middle of Pan's beige living room carpet. Krillen didn't pity her the cleaning bill, but knew that she would be thankful to be alive.

_Well, she won't be even that if you don't hurry up with the senzu_, he said sharply to himself.

He knelt beside Videl and force-fed her the senzu expertly. She coughed and gagged at the flavor, but he couldn't stay by her and help her. Krillen left the woman in the living room floor and stole into Pan's bedroom.

Krillen breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the small spark of ki that had been present in his friends he'd just seen to. He sat heavily on the bed and force-fed Pan as well. Krillen closed his eyes slightly, feeling the weight of years and his own fatigue. He'd been rushing around like a madman, making flights in record time and expending a huge amount of his energy just in speed. He was surprised he'd had enough for two of his strong destructo disks. No matter how hard he'd trained, it had taken its toll on him.

"Are you all right, Krillen-san?" came a tired voice from the doorway.

Krillen turned to regard Videl. She looked more haggard than he'd ever seen a person. She was covered in the leech's blood, and she was holding onto the doorframe to keep herself from sinking to the floor.

Krillen shoved his petty fatigue aside. "Yes, I'm fine. And Pan's going to be fine too."

Videl smiled. "I know. I mean, those are senzu. Pan's fine."

She belied her confidence by crossing the room and touching Pan's face, just to make sure. Pan's energy had normalized, and she was breathing regularly. However, she was still sleeping.

Krillen almost woke her up when Videl stopped his hand. She smiled. "Don't wake her up yet. There's nothing she can do now, and she's already been through a lot.

Krillen agreed, but he was still worried. "It's not safe here. The leech could come back, or Jiten could get here looking for the leech."

Videl raised an eyebrow. "No place is safe."

Krillen smiled at that. "True, but some places are slightly less dangerous than others."

Videl snorted. "You can't mean Kami's Lookout. When has that place ever been safe?"

Krillen shook his head. "Take Pan and go to Chichi's. Goku's staying by his word so far to not get in the fight, but if you and the others are in danger at his house, he'll get involved anyway. That's the safest place right now.

Videl nodded, gathering Pan up in her arms. "I hate to be leaving the fight…"

"Don't even think about it," Krillen said abruptly. "You did your part. That's what matters. Let others do their part, and hope that you don't still have a part to play."

Videl nodded at this wisdom and walked to the door with Pan.

.

Jiten was in the bathroom behind the slightly ajar door. He'd been keeping perfectly still in his hiding place. At first he'd been waiting for his master to dispense with the other fighters. Now his master was gone to another dimension – a dimension even Jiten couldn't reach.

Jiten slouched to the floor after Aunt Videl and Krillen-san had gone far from the apartment. He pulled his arms around his legs and pulled them to his chest, trembling in unknown emotion.

_You killed Jita and Goten._

.

**Reviewer thanks**:

**zara**** m**: Don't worry. As you can see, I have plenty of plans for our cute little Saiyan.

**Son Chiako**: Thanks! Of course, you'll have forgotten about the review for ch. 13 by the time you get here, but it's the thought that counts.

**Engar**: I like Eighteen. I wanted to include her, definitely. I'm having fun with the non-main characters. Especially the ones who aren't Saiyan. They're extremely fun. But Jiten is fun too. I guess that's why I don't have Jiten turning Super Saiyan. It sort of takes the fun right out of the fighting.

**Dbzneon**: Thanks! Your complaint is slightly legitimate for my earlier chapters. I hadn't gotten the character portrayals and relationships down at that point… as well as my writing ability. Of course, the relationship of Goku and Vegeta post-Buu is always up for grabs, which can go from open hostility to shudders openness of another kind. I doubt that the two would ever be drinking buddies or anything, though. Vegeta isn't the kind of guy to befriend easily, and although Goku makes friends everywhere, it takes a lot to form a deep relationship with the guy. He tends to forget about friends when he isn't with them… unless during a crisis. Anyway, I have forgotten about Mr. Buu, but I haven't gotten the entire final battle written out. I follow a rough sketch that changes with every paragraph (which I call "character driven." Ha-ha). But there's still hope, now that you've mentioned him. I'm sort of sad that I wrote Hercule off. I'll have to work him in to another story. He is, after all Toriyama's favorite DBZ character. (Of course, Toriyama's least favorite DBZ character is Vegeta, so go figure.)

**Tim333**: Been waiting for your return. This is for the review that you left for chapter 42. Yeah, that was a fun chapter to write. I love Taopiepie. I really think the Cell Saga did him little justice. (If you haven't seen that part of the anime, it's really sad. Taopiepie starts out looking pretty smart, but it goes downhill from there.) And with Krianan… I'll admit I was fishing for characterization there. I realized that I wanted to write a chapter with five characters that two were only developed in any way. I was experimenting, and I may have gone a little overboard.


	49. Taint

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**: Well, I'm back in school. And, yes, I've had little to no time to devote to fanfiction. I'm just glad I had this chapter almost done before summer was over. I am trying to manage my time a little better so I can do things like write fanfiction, but it's hard. Anyway, at least I'm in the home stretch of The Soul.

**More Author's Notes**: Argh! OK, this is a repost, because apparently doesn't think that anything to denote scene changes is important. sigh I know is a great site, and the admins try to make it the best with what resources they can get. I'm just blowing off some steam. I rely on scene changes, and I hate it when my work is more confusing than usual.

…

**Chapter 47: Taint**

…

"He… he didn't tell him," Goten said quietly.

The immensity of the heavens seemed to shrink to the view of the little boy from the big-screen television floating in front of the North Galaxy building complex. Kaio-sama, tired of Goten knocking him down when he got too enthusiastic as a spectator, had requisitioned a screen for the fight with the leech. It had turned into a pretty large turn-out. There hadn't been a leech-fight since most of them had been newly dead. This was something worth watching.

Except now, the fight with the leech seemed to be over, and the grieving little acolyte was the only thing the screen could focus on.

"The leech isn't dead," Pikkon's deep voice intoned. "Not by a long-shot. He's gone to another dimension to heal right now. He'll be back."

Jiten continued to cry on the screen.

Goten was getting angry at everyone staring at his son. "Turn it away, already! It's not like this is a movie… this is my son!"

The view went away from Jiten to the outside of the apartment building. A plane was headed for Mt. Paotzu, carrying Videl and Pan. Krillen was headed for Capsule Corp.

There wasn't really anything going on in the battle. Everyone was regrouping. Goten knew that he would soon be wished back to life, hopefully in time to head off the leech. Maybe even in time to talk to Jiten and try to reassure him.

But the damage had been done.

Goten had a rough idea of what Jiten had been through for the past year. The leech had obviously won his confidence. In fact, it had probably brainwashed the boy. Probably acted all buddy-buddy and let him do things that he and Jita would never let him do.

Goten was surprised at the sudden thought of Jita. He hadn't even thought of her ever since the battle started. He was so focused on the battle… and Jiten.

_When was the last time I'd truly focused on Jiten this much? Even during training, all I could think of was what Jita was… is… going through right now. Have I always been like this? Have I just not noticed Jiten all this time? Is that how the leech was able to win Jiten over so completely?_

Kaio-sama slightly misinterpreted Goten's silence. "Don't worry, Goten. See? They're almost to Capsule Corp with the dragonball. Then you'll be able to take care of Jiten yourself."

That's when the apartment building exploded.

…

Trunks was almost to Pan's apartment when he realized he hadn't checked on ki signatures. He was surprised to note that the battle seemed over. Pan's ki was still weak, but steady now. She, Videl, and… Krillen?... were leaving the scene of battle. The leech was nowhere to be seen.

Trunks huffed in frustration. _I'm too late… again._

Trunks almost turned back to rendezvous with the others when there was an earth-shattering boom. Before he could turn around, he was knocked in the back of the head by a flying piece of debris.

His vision sparkled as he felt the back of his head for blood. Fortunately, the piece of metal or whatever hadn't hit him with a sharp edge. _No head wound_, he thought peevishly, _just a slight concussion. Covered in medical plan._

He tensed himself as he turned around, readying himself for battle. Somehow, he thought that the injuries he was likely to be about to receive would not be covered.

What Trunks was expecting was a return of the leech. Perhaps he'd misread an end of the battle for a hasty retreat. However, his expectation was replaced by the second most likely candidate.

"Jiten?!" Trunks yelled over the sound of the remaining debris hitting the ground. "Wh-what are you doing?!"

Jiten was floating above what used to be Pan's apartment building. He was shrouded in crackling energy – energy that looked like too much for him to handle. Even from that distance Trunks could see the red eyes and crazed look Jiten was wearing.

"Why didn't he tell me?!" Jiten yelled, seeming oblivious to Trunks's presence.

While Jiten was looking away, Trunks powered up as much he could without turning Super Saiyan. He wanted to reason with Jiten without appearing too threatening.

"Jiten!" Trunks yelled again. It was really hard to sound reassuring when you're yelling at the top of your lungs.

"But he couldn't have!" Jiten screamed again. "It was a lie! It had to have been! And why should I care anyway! They're not my parents anymore!"

Cold ran through Trunks's spine. _They're not my parents anymore!_

Jiten stopped powering up, yet maintained his dangerous level of ki. He was breathing hard, and looked like he was doing a heck of a job convincing himself of his own personal worldview.

Trunks dared to move closer to Jiten, thinking that this would be the best time to approach him and talk to him. "Jiten…" he began.

Jiten looked up, seemingly shocked at having a spectator. His eyes narrowed. "You were watching me, Trunks?" he said roughly.

Trunks shuddered. Jiten was sounding like Vegeta at his most dangerous. "Jiten, we need to talk. Why don't you power down a little more before…" He stopped. Trunks couldn't think of any way to finish that sentence without sounding patronizing or demanding.

"Before what?" Jiten said slowly. "Before you'll make me?"

Trunks eyes sprang wide. He held his hands before him placatingly. "Jiten, you misunderstand me. I just…"

"Stop telling me what to do!!" Jiten thundered, his voice breaking from the emotion. "You're not my Mom and Dad! They're dead!"

Trunks tried to inch forward again. "Jiten, I know you're hurting right now, but your dad won't be dead for long. They're going to wish him back with the dragonballs, so…"

Trunks flew back, the impact from the ki-blast knocking out his wind and doubling him over. Therefore, he wasn't prepared for the elbow right to the back of his neck.

Falling end over end in an uncontrolled plummet, Trunks tried to gather his wits enough to push his ki over the edge to Super Saiyan. He didn't know if Jiten was a Super Saiyan yet or not – he could have been hiding the transformation until the appropriate time – but Trunks knew that he had more experience as a fighter and as a Super Saiyan. He should be able to outdo Jiten by experience alone.

Unless, of course, Jiten sucks his energy up.

Trunks flashed gold as he ended his fall with a powerful foot to the ground, propelling him right back at Jiten. He pulled energy balls into both palms and projected them in front of them. _There's for power and diversion._

The ki balls not only blinded Jiten, but they also blinded Trunks. It was a risky maneuver, one that Vegeta would have suavely sidestepped and pummeled him as punishment for such an idiotic tactic. However, it worked against Jiten. Once the flashing cleared, Trunks could see Jiten embedded in the rubble below.

Trunks watched him pull himself out of the rubble and brush himself off. Trunks was taking the time to discreetly power up a little more. He had to halt it when Jiten started throwing a few energy blasts. Sidestepping was easy, but not sidestepping into another attack was the hard part.

"Listen, Jiten," Trunks said a little breathlessly, "we don't have to do things like this. Fighting never solved any problems."

Jiten laughed out loud at that one, partially forgetting his anger. "Do you even listen to yourself? 'Fighting never solved problems'… Exactly what family are you from, anyway?!"

Trunks knew Jiten was correct in his irony, but it also left an opening. "And what family are you from, Jiten? Last I heard we were cousins. Is this what family does? Kill each other?"

Trunks looked up as he realized the attacks had stopped coming. Jiten had stopped and was staring at him. "Ours does," the boy said matter-of-factly.

Trunks remained tense, knowing the attack could begin again any moment. "Not for a long time, Jiten. No for before even I was born."

Jiten snorted. "Yeah right. Try last year."

Trunks was taken aback. "Uh… Jiten? What happened last year?"

Jiten rolled his eyes. "Don't you remember?"

Trunks glared back. "I remember last year perfectly. It's your memory I'm calling into question. Last year…" Trunks paused, realizing that he was going to have to say this as delicately as possible. He _was_ talking to a little boy about his parents' death, after all.

"Last year…" he began again, "the leech… showed up at the Budoukai. He had knocked you unconscious and was threatening you. Your parents fought to get you back, but the leech had linked you to himself, so that ever blow that he felt, you would feel. G… your mother and father wouldn't hit him them. They tried to fight… but the leech was drawing energy from them. He… he killed them, Jiten," Trunks ended with a broken voice. Remembering that day was still hard for him. He hated what the leech had done. He hated that the leech had killed that beautiful family. He… hated that the leech had killed his best friend.

Jiten's face remained stony. "You're lying," he said in a rough voice.

Trunks gave him a look of disbelief. "What?! Jiten, do you think I would lie about something like that? I'm your father's best friend! Your mother was my aunt! I wouldn't lie about the death of my friends!" _That's not really the most delicate way to put it, but I've got to get through to this kid._

Jiten rolled his eyes again. "Listen, you can stop pretending now, Trunks. I've figured it all out. I already know that I accidentally got caught up in the portal when my master was going back to his own dimension. When they couldn't find me, mom and dad killed each other. It's as simple as that." He smiled, seemingly self-satisfied.

Trunks stared at Jiten, dumbfounded. A slow trickle of sweat went down the side of his face. "That's…" he said in a whisper, "… the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Jiten, how could you believe that?! Why on Earth would your parents kill each other over something like that?!"

"I don't know!!" Jiten exploded. "They're always arguing over something I've done, anyway! Why wouldn't they kill each other?! It's more plausible than Hoja doing it! If Hoja killed them, then why didn't he kill me? Why did he take care of me and train me for a year? It doesn't make sense if he's the bad guy! And, really, I'm better off without mom and dad. They're probably happier in Heaven, anyway. Grandpa sure was happy there, I've heard. Why not them?"

_This kid… has more issues than I ever would have guessed. Knowing that, what do I do?_

"Jiten," Trunks began, "your parents loved each other. And they have more sense than to kill each other. They would stop at nothing to get you back."

"Then why haven't they?!!"

Jiten collapsed on the broken rocks below him, his knees thudding hard. Despite obvious attempts to keep them in check, hot tears were rolling down both cheeks.

"I… I was right there," Jiten said in a whisper. "They… they could have used the dragonballs or something. They can bring the dead back to life. They can do anything. And I was right there, and I was alone. Even with… I missed them so much… they didn't come… I asked them to… every night for a while… and they didn't come…"

Jiten was slowly powering down, tribute to the grief he was feeling at the moment. Without the leech there, Jiten was obviously not as assured of his master as he thought he'd been. Trunks powered down as well, dropping the Super Saiyan in relief. The boy was sobbing uncontrollably, unaware of his presence. Trunks smiled a bit. _There's some heart left in him after all._

Trunks knelt to Jiten's level, putting a hand on the boy's shuddering shoulder. "Jiten… it's gonna be all right. They'll be wishing your father back any moment. It'll be alright."

Jiten sniffled, yet didn't flinch away from Trunks' grasp. Trunks's confidence was growing, and he was starting to consider giving Jiten a hug.

"Why only Dad?" came a quiet reply.

Trunks frowned. "What?"

Jiten looked up. "Why only Dad? Why not Mom? You keep talking about wishing Daddy back to life, but why not Mom?"

Trunks was drawing a blank. He couldn't very well tell Jiten that his mother was in Hell and there was no way to get her back. That was a revelation for later, if ever. In that case, it was even understandable to feed Jiten a comfortable lie… say that she didn't want to be wished back or that it was beyond the dragon's power or something. There was a grain of truth in that, at least.

But none of it would fly right now.

"Well… you see, Jiten… it was a little difficult…" Trunks began weakly.

"Let me go," Jiten said, his trembling having ended abruptly. His voice was dangerously soft… something that seemed unnatural in a boy so young.

"Jiten…" Trunks said slowly.

"Let me go!" Jiten shrieked and lashed out… with far too much power.

Trunks watched as Jiten's face went bloody. _What's going on?_

Then the pain hit him.

Jiten's face turned into almost horror as Trunks doubled over, coughing up more blood. In comforting Jiten, Trunks had let his power sink down to normal level. He hadn't been able to guard against that much ki at close range. Consequently, there was now a hole the size of two fists right through his middle.

The last thing Trunks saw was Jiten flying away as fast as he could.

…

Gohan and Krillen met in the air.

"Did you feel that?" Krillen said.

Gohan's heart was pounding in his chest. He'd just gotten over the fear of losing his wife and daughter, but now…

"Yeah. Trunks is in trouble."

Krillen held up a bag of senzu. "I've got these. Let's go."

It took them just a moment to get to the scene of so many recent battles. The residential area was showing its recent use, too. Where Pan used to live… was now a crater.

"Trunks!" Gohan yelled, spotting the prone demi-Saiyan easily.

The scene looked like one out of a nightmare. Partially propped up by some sharp-looking debris was Trunks, lying face-down in a pool of blood. Gohan was struck by a sense of déjà vu, but quickly shook it off.

"Don't worry, Trunks." Krillen was already kneeling beside the young man, turning him over as slowly as possible so as not to accidentally kill him. "This'll fix you up."

Trunks had not had his energy stolen, so his return to the living was almost immediate. He blinked, and immediately his hand went for his abdomen. All he felt there was blood, but no hole.

"Thank Kami," Trunks breathed. "Or Korin, more specifically."

Gohan smiled faintly. "What happened?"

Trunks looked down. "I… I tried to reason with him. You see how that turned out," he ended with a bitter laugh.

"Well, at least you tried," Krillen said reassuringly.

Trunks cursed himself, not to be reassured. "I let my guard down, too. I knew that it was still dangerous, but I just wanted everything to be alright with Jiten. Stupid!" he bit off.

Gohan stood, surveying the area again. He then realized exactly where they were. "Darn it!"

Krillen and Trunks looked at him.

Gohan glared inwardly. "I'd hoped to do this without anyone getting killed."

The other two warriors looked around the area, finally realizing the import of what had happened. There used to be an apartment building there. Now there was a crater. Apartment building equals…

…residents…

Jiten had killed.

Gohan was shaken to the core. The one thing that they had tried to prevent, something that Jita was always proud about, had been completely destroyed. Jiten was a murderer. It didn't matter if it was intentional or not. It didn't matter if Jiten meant it, or if he enjoyed it, or if he even knew about it. He was a murderer, and that was something that you just couldn't wish away. It was an eternal taint on his soul.

"Help me."

Gohan turned to the source of the surprising calm cry for help. There, under some debris that had been thrown fairly far, was a boy that Gohan vaguely recognized from his visits to Pan's apartment.

The boy's ki was strong, if unfocused. His eyes were slightly glazed over as well. Gohan jogged over to the semi-buried figure.

"Hey, man," the blonde boy said, "I think I'm coming down from my buzz, so I'm probably going to hurt a lot pretty soon. Would you mind digging me out of here or calling somebody?"

Gohan's mouth lifted slightly. "Those drugs probably saved your life."

The boy laughed. "And they said they were unhealthy."

Gohan knelt to the task of carefully lifting a beam of metal, hoping that he wouldn't start a chain reaction that would certainly kill the boy.

"They're all dead, aren't they?" the boy asked softly.

Gohan looked up, surprised. "Don't worry. They'll all come back."

The boy smiled. "Yeah. Sure. They'll all come back. I like that."

…

Vegeta sensed his coming, sensed his trajectory. Jiten was probably too wild right now to sense anyone's presence.

"What are you going to do?"

Vegeta looked over, as if noticing Piccolo's presence for the first time. "Hmph… hold him for as long as I can. Try to get some information out of him."

"But what if…"

"Am I prepared to kill my own blood?" Vegeta interrupted Piccolo.

Piccolo merely stared.

Vegeta turned away. "What do you think, Namek?" he answered shortly.

Piccolo knew that Vegeta didn't know what he was going to do.

"The eldest brat seems to have forgotten that he's carrying the dragonball," Vegeta said nonchalantly. "Go and remind him."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "You sure you don't need…" Piccolo broke off when he realized that any ending to that sentence would be an insult to Vegeta.

"You've had your turn already," Vegeta answered gruffly. "Now go."

Piccolo left reluctantly, for once not able to tell exactly what was going on through the other Saiyan's head.

Vegeta slowly counted the seconds down to when he would force Jiten to stop. Finally…

A blur of light suddenly pulled to a halt.

"All right, Jiten," Vegeta said to the wide-eyed, panicking boy. "It's down to you and me."

…

Thanks to all my… um… reviewer….

Pannygirl: I'm glad I never got boring. I'm sorry that I took up a whole day. Sometimes, when I devote a whole day to reading a fanfiction, I kick myself for time lost. I'm just glad your time wasn't lost in a too unpleasant way.


	50. The Lesson

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**: I… may have gotten a little sadistic with this chapter. OK, no spoilers.

…

**Chapter 48: The Lesson**

…

_The boy is afraid._

Vegeta didn't blame him. Few people could face Vegeta without fear.

Jiten backed away slightly, but Vegeta floated forward to keep the same distance. "No, Jiten. You're going to have to face me."

It was not only fear that Jiten was feeling. He may have been hiding his ki extremely well, but his emotions had been running wild and broadcasting freely ever since the leech had disappeared. Fear coupled with anger and confusion and… grief?

Maybe the leech had been controlling him, dampening his emotions. Maybe Jiten was scared now that he didn't have his _master_ there.

Vegeta didn't care. All he knew was that Jiten was going to hurt people, others and himself, and it was up to Vegeta to stop him. All the others had let their guard down around Jiten, relying on the fact that he was a little boy and would change sides just at a few words.

Vegeta knew better. Children weren't innocent. Little boys could be killers, as heartless as any adult. Maybe even more. Vegeta knew this, for he had been a heartless killer as a boy. He had never been innocent. Vegeta was prepared to stop Jiten at any cost.

Even if it meant killing him.

…

Jiten still remembered the Uncle Vegeta of a year ago.

After a minute of being stared down, Jiten had begun to remember how Vegeta really was. He may have seemed strict and implacable, even downright mean, but he'd always taken Jiten's side. He'd always told him stories from his youth to cheer Jiten up after being punished. Even on the tournament day a year ago Jiten had managed to give Vegeta the slip when he was supposed to be watching out for him. Vegeta… was a pushover, really.

Jiten was starting to calm down a little and think clearly. He realized how foolish he'd been recently. He couldn't even remember what Hoja had said that had gotten him so worked up. Well, maybe he remembered that it had something to do with killing his parents, but Jiten knew that he couldn't really trust his senses. He'd just been coming down from dimension-travel sickness, after all. Everything went all wonky after hopping dimensions.

That was where Hoja was, too. He hadn't abandoned him. They'd worked it all out. There was a special dimension that could heal wounds. If Jiten had gotten hurt, Hoja would have taken them both to the dimension. As it was, only Hoja got hurt, so what was the point in both of them going? Jiten could easily continue the fight.

Jiten grinned. That was exactly his intention, now. He had expended energy on Trunks and dimension-hopping, so the stolen power wasn't hurting him anymore. He was feeling much better, actually. He felt like he could take on ten Vegetas.

_That look in his eyes can't be real_, Jiten thought. _If I can't take him, I'll just hop dimensions or escape some other way. It'll be easy._

Jiten careened in for the full frontal attack, expecting Vegeta to pull some move to hold him by the arms or something so that he could hurt neither of them. That was a move Jiten could easily take advantage of.

Suddenly Jiten's stomach caved in with such force that he was sure that it could be seen through his back. Black dots danced in his vision as Vegeta's fists slammed into his face, driving him downward like a falling plane. Jiten braced himself for the impact, but was still shocked as the ground swallowed him up in compact granite.

Jiten shoved back the desire to throw up. _He… he wasn't kidding._

…

Darjili stopped in her flight just a moment, bringing her companions to a halt behind her. Vegeta was floating in the air, and she could feel Jiten's strong ki in the ground below.

Apparently, the fight was on.

Vegeta dropped down to the ground like a rock. Darjili couldn't see the look on his face; he was too far away. She figured that she really didn't want to see his face at that moment.

"What's he doing?" Danton whispered.

In a blink-fast move, Vegeta ripped Jiten from the ground by his arm. Clods of dirt and roots showered down from Jiten's body, clinging to his hair. He gagged and spit out rocks. The rocks were stained red.

Pecon shook his head slowly. "I don't even want to think about it."

Jiten tried to bury his fist in Vegeta's face, but Vegeta was too quick for him. He moved his head slightly and embedded his knee in the boy's gut. Jiten doubled over, coughing up more blood.

Darjili looked away.

"Humans!"

The four of them jerked to attention at Vegeta unexpected address.

"Get out of here!" he bellowed. "Get to Capsule Corp. Tell Bulma and Bra to get to Kakarrot's house. Capsule Corp's not safe!"

Darjili wanted to scream out, 'Nowhere is!' but better judgment won.

…

Vegeta turned his attention back to the boy. Jiten was hanging limply by one arm, coughing violently. Apparently he wasn't used to being buried alive in a fight, and had swallowed some ground down there. Vegeta glared at him and waited for him to recover.

Vegeta suddenly felt excruciating pain on his chest, and smelled the cloth of his gi burning. Jiten had formed some ki in front of him without using his hands, something that could be done but usually lacked enough focus to launch. Jiten didn't need that much focus at close range, however.

Before the ki burned into his chest, Vegeta launched Jiten away with a ki attack of his own. Jiten rode it for a little bit before flicking it away and regaining his control. The boy set himself, finally looking completely at the defensive.

_He's improved. I must give him that_, Vegeta mused. His chest still burned, but he ignored it. If he diverted his attention in the least, Jiten would attack.

Jiten watched him cautiously, seeming to expect him to say something any second. Vegeta smirked. _Sorry to disappoint you, nephew, but you'll get no speeches or entreaties from me._

…

When a minute had passed with nothing, Jiten showed his childish impatience by striking… empty air. Vegeta had moved too fast for him to follow.

He hovered in midair, looking wildly around. Those few blows that Vegeta had scored on him had shaken him to the core. It felt like every bone in his body was fractured, and his stomach was a bloody mess. Jiten winced as he felt his ribs creak.

"Wh-where…." Jiten whispered, starting to panic. Had Vegeta learned to teleport?

Every sound and wind movement was magnified. But instead of the usual calm of battle, they were driving the boy to the rough edges of screaming fear. The control that Hoja had taught him had been taken away in a few seconds, and now Jiten was at the mercy of…

Vegeta was not a pushover. Jiten had never seen this side of his uncle before. It was like when his mother was angry with him, only 100 times worse and deadly calm. Vegeta wasn't yelling at him. Vegeta was beating him, hurting him way worse than anyone had ever done to him in his life.

A flash of wind, and Jiten tensed, closing his eyes with a sob of terror.

The arm came a second later, snaking from behind, wrapping around Jiten's throat. The other hand grabbed his hair and yanked it back roughly, making Jiten's vision sparkle.

"Don't you dare move."

Jiten shut his eyes tight. He was caught.

…

Jita shut her eyes. She didn't want to see.

…

Piccolo stayed hovering in the air, merely floating there until Gohan, Trunks, and Krillen noticed him.

"There are a lot of hurt people here," Gohan said to him without looking up. He was in the middle of unearthing several barely-conscious young adults from the ruins… along with a few corpses.

"They'll have to wait for the human authorities," Piccolo said calmly, yet authoritatively. "We've got to prevent more from getting hurt."

Gohan glared up at Piccolo, but Trunks put a restraining hand on his arm. "Chill, Gohan. The police are about here anyway."

Gohan sighed and, one last time, checked a pulse. It was no use. Piccolo could tell the young woman was dead.

"Alright," he said under his breath.

Krillen glanced at the approaching sirens nervously. "Guys, I really think we should leave before the police see us. You remember what a nightmare the Cell thing was."

That was all the incentive they needed. Trunks didn't remember, of course, but he knew what would happen if the authorities saw the president of Capsule Corp at the site of a possible bombing. The four left before the police could see them.

"Where are we going?" Gohan asked.

"Capsule Corp," Piccolo responded. "Unless, of course, you want to keep that dragonball all to yourself."

"I don't…" Gohan paused. "Oh, yeah. I guess I did run off with it."

That's when they felt the fight.

"Keep going," Piccolo intoned.

The demi-Saiyans nodded, but Krillen wasn't so sure.

"Uh, Piccolo," he began nervously, "we all know that Vegeta loves the kid and all, but… what if he… you know… he's not exactly stable or anything."

Gohan was shocked. "You don't think Vegeta would…"

"I wouldn't be so sure…" Trunks added.

"Vegeta will do whatever he wants," Piccolo said wearily. He'd already written the boy off. He understood why the others hadn't, but he was fairly certain that the boy was past redemption.

Vegeta probably knew that, too.

Gohan frowned. "Well, just in case, shouldn't we wait…"

"For the leech to come back?" Piccolo laughed shortly. "Not on your life. We're wishing Goten back now, no matter what happens."

Piccolo closed his eyes briefly. _Sorry, Jiten. But that's the way it has to be._

…

Bulma was on the four humans as soon as they landed. "What's happened? The dragonball…?"

"Gohan-san's coming here with it," Darjili said shortly. "He was sidetracked."

Bulma crossed her arms and frowned. "That's not telling me a whole lot."

Pecon immediately scoped the sky as soon as he landed. "It'll have to do for now. Vegeta-san said for you and Bra to go to Goku-san's house. That'll probably be safer than Capsule Corp."

Bulma frowned even harder. "I don't see why. They always end up fighting thousands of miles away from nowhere anyway. The city's probably safer."

Bra chose this time to run out of the house. "Mom! The news said there was an explosion! I think it was Pan's apartment building."

Bulma looked in shock. "Oh, yeah. Trunks said something about… oh my god, Trunks! Where is he?!" She turned her pleading eyes to the Spider students.

"His ki's all right," Danton said, "although it bottomed out not too long ago."

The others shot daggers at the man, who hadn't realized how callous his message had sounded.

Bulma didn't overreact, however. "Well, at least he's alright." Then she paused and rolled her eyes, as if to remind herself to care about other people. "Did anyone else get hurt?"

"Certainly, but no one you know. No need to worry."

Bulma's heart froze in her chest. Kami, did she recognize that voice.

The group turned to regard the armor-clad man, who was eating an apple that was probably filched from the Capsule Corp kitchen.

"Hi, kids," he grinned. "Mind if I drop in?"

The students immediately flashed out and in of sight, getting between the leech and the two Briefs women.

"Go!" Darjili barked, forgetting politeness in the immediate danger.

Taking one last look at the leech, Bulma and Bra ran, forgetting stubbornness in the face of immediate danger.

In spite of her stubbornness in not being forced out of her own home, Bulma'd had a plane decapsulated and running since she'd woken up. She rushed herself and Bra into the plane and strapped herself into the pilot's seat, praying that the leech would be too distracted, or even indifferent, to try to take a pot shot at the all-too fragile plane.

She also prayed that the leech wouldn't hurt the all-too fragile children she was leaving behind.

…

The leech regarded the departing plane calmly as he finished the apple. He tossed away the core carelessly.

"You know," he said as he picked a piece of apple skin out of his teeth, "it's not like I've starved or anything, but you just can't get fresh produce in that other dimension. You just get tired of boxed dinners."

The students stayed frozen, not sure what to do next.

The leech glanced around at the Spider students. Of course he'd learned all about them from Jiten. Jiten had spent much of his time with these young adults, particularly the blue-haired girl and the bald one. They'd both lived at the dojo. _More runaways_, he noted.

Those two were the most powerful. The other two were less note-worthy, although still impressive for humans. They would certainly have had more experience than Jiten. They'd probably been training all their short lives, carefully conditioning their bodies and upping their kis to be the best, only to meet aliens that were far superior to them and would always be far superior to them.

_Hold on… remember what happened last time you underestimated humans._

_Jiten is in trouble._

Of course he sensed what was happening. He could sense the anguish and pain in Jiten. And he would have given anything to rush to Jiten's side.

But he wasn't strong enough. And he needed to prevent the dragonballs from being used. And he needed more energy before facing someone as strong as Vegeta. And he needed Jiten to learn to take care of himself. An acolyte who is too dependent is worthless.

_Just keep telling yourself that. Don't go flying off. Vegeta won't kill his sister's offspring. There's no way._

…

Jiten felt the return of his master like a flash of lightning.

"Hoja," he said under his breath, and tried to wrench away from Vegeta's grasp.

Vegeta's arms tightened, making him gag.

"Let me go!" Jiten screamed, forcing the words out past the bile.

There was a long pause. Jiten was caught in an inhuman tableau of pain and hatred. He knew that Hoja could help. He just knew it. If only he could get to him.

The two were breathing heavily, their breaths almost matching in rhythm.

"Fine," Vegeta said suddenly, and let him go, delivering a punishing blow to the lower back as he did.

Jiten felt his spine crackle slightly as he flew through the air. He was not going in the same direction that Hoja was, though. He struggled to right himself, wanting more than anything to make a run for it.

Vegeta was blocking the way.

Another sharp blow to the back of the head and Jiten was crashing to the ground again. This time, though, he landed on hard solid rock. He felt every bone shudder and protest at the ill treatment. Jiten tried to pull himself up and fly again, but he was too disoriented.

"Is this Hoja your… _master_?" Vegeta asked sharply.

Jiten glared and lunged at Vegeta, only to be punched to the side. Jiten bit back a cry. He felt like his face was going to cave in.

And his power was beginning to really diminish.

"I'm waiting!" Vegeta barked.

"So what if he is!" Jiten screamed as he pulled himself up again.

Silence. Jiten wiped the sweat out of his eyes, his eyes tearing from the salt and sand. He looked at the back of his hand. There was red. _I can't even think about what I look like right now._

Vegeta gave a bare smirk. "Ah. So this… _master_… you think will save you and make everything better."

Jiten spit on the ground next to him. Also red. "At least he cares about me. Which is more than I can say for anyone here."

Again silence. Jiten shifted uncomfortably as Vegeta stared down at him, arms crossed, like one would stare at an unpleasant insect.

"You really believe that, don't you," Vegeta said in little more than a whisper.

Jiten braced himself for any possible attack. "Yes," he said hoarsely. "I hate all of you."

Vegeta regarded him blankly. "Well, since that's the case, I have nothing to hold me back."

Too late, Jiten saw the oncoming fist.

…

The leech set himself and grinned at the humans facing him. "Where's the dragonballs?"

"Like we'd tell you," Krianan growled out.

The leech looked at her in surprise, looking for all the world slightly offended. "Oh, were we doing this like that? Ok…" He cleared his throat as if he were an actor getting into character. "You cannot defeat me," he said in a cheesy villain-voice. "I will destroy you, so you may as well bow to me now! Mwa-ha-ha-ha…" The leech cleared his throat. "Really, let's not demean ourselves. Even you four are much too old for superhero antics."

There was a sneezing sound, and suddenly Darjili was in her blonde form. The leech regarded her, but she just growled.

"Oh, that's almost like turning Super Saiyan… except… not so much," the leech said mockingly. Then he caught himself. "I'm sorry, that was unfair of me. I said we weren't doing superhero antics, and that includes taunts… even the good ones."

The leech was almost taken aback when they attacked.

Really, he could tell that they'd been training superbly. They moved like a team – like they were born to be a team. Not only that, but the leech knew that one of their members was absent – the little Saiyan girl – one who had surely trained with them. But they improvised beautifully, tightening up their forms to compensate for one less member.

They were all going extremely fast, making it impossible for him to single out one at a time. He could feel small attacks here and there on his body, but the perpetrator was gone before he could even react. He knew he could possibly finish them off with a big enough power-up, but that would waste too much power too early in the game. And he needed to be building it up.

The leech also knew he wasn't doing the greatest job focusing on the fight. In the back of his mind was the fight going on a few simple miles away. Jiten's ki, which had been enormous, was diminishing. Vegeta was obviously beating the boy slowly down, depriving both of them of that collected energy. The leech cursed himself. If only he'd gotten to Jiten sooner, he would have absorbed that energy and strengthened his stamina. Then they wouldn't be in the mess they were in now.

A cut to the face called him back to the present. A thin stream of blood fell down his cheek.

_That's it. I will _not _be humiliated by these humans again!_

The leech took a chance and, with a shout, lunged in one direction.

He felt contact with a body and heard a painful grunt. He looked down to see Darjili sprawled on the ground, holding her arm.

_Bingo._

The leech grinned as the group began to lose focus. They, of course, hadn't planned to take the leech down all by themselves. That's what Saiyans were for. They were just there to buy time.

Soon, they were all sprawled on the ground, temporarily blacked out. The leech surveyed his work with approval and prepared to suck the energy right out of them.

_Buy time…_

The leech turned suddenly, surveying the skies. Sure enough, two Saiyans, a Namek, and the human that had cut off his arm were practically right on top of him.

The leech braced himself and prepared for further attack.

…

It was sunrise.

The sky was red, as if the day was already drenched in blood. Gohan smirked at his cheesy, morose metaphor. He'd have to remember not to write that down.

The leech was just as he'd remembered him from a year ago, dressed like a role player that had too much money and too much time, yet looking like the devil himself.

All Gohan could see was red.

Piccolo had moved to one side, while Trunks had moved to the other, blocking any possible escape routes for the leech. Krillen, from habit, had pulled out his senzu for the fallen Spider students.

"You tried to kill my family," Gohan said in a dangerous whisper. "You _have_ killed my family."

The leech raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I suppose I did. And?"

Gohan nodded. "Just setting things straight on why I'm going to kill you."

The leech snorted, pretending to hide a smile. "Ahem… _you_? Kill me? That may have worked in the past, but you're a weakling now and you have no idea how to even go about fighting me. Forgive me for saying, but things aren't looking up for you."

"Oh, I'm sure you would have no trouble taking on all of us," Trunks said mockingly.

The leech looked at him with a bemused expression. "I really wouldn't. Attack me all at once, if you like."

"You're bluffing," Piccolo growled.

Gohan thought so too, but he wasn't going to take that chance. He'd long ago gotten over the practice of taking on enemies one at a time. This man had corrupted Jiten, and they both had killed or almost killed too many people now. This wasn't play time or a time to show off their manliness in a fight. The leech would be given no senzu. This would be an execution, sweet and simple and by any means necessary.

Giving the proper silent signals to each other, the four of them, including Krillen, attacked.

…

The leech dodged each attack, but found it much harder than the Spider students before. The four attacking him were much less used to working as a team and far more used to working alone, but each individually was formidable. And the leech couldn't get the pattern of their movements down.

He winced as he felt a jab through the bond. Jiten was not having any more of a good time in his fight.

The leech immediately sent as much reassurance through the bond as he could possibly concentrate on. It wasn't easy. He had to concentrate so much on the battle before him. He'd never guessed that the Saiyans would attack all at once. From what he had learned of the group both from Jiten and from his preliminary research, all of them preferred to fight alone, even when doing so was impossible and brain-dead stupid. However, he was dealing with some of the more pragmatic of the warriors. They had possibly come to better senses.

He moved in and out of the group, trying desperately to move faster than them so they would slow down enough for him to leech off their energy. It was more difficult since he couldn't just lock down on one's energy. And he couldn't form a barrier around himself and one other since they were all pressing in on him.

And if they got the better of him, they would use the dragonballs to wish the boy's father back to life, and he couldn't let that happen. For one, Goten had probably learned techniques to defeat him, or at least how to fight him. For another, Jiten could possibly go back with his father if he actually saw him. The bonds between parent and child were not easily torn asunder.

The leech felt himself flattened by an unexpected blow from the purple-haired Saiyan. He kicked up just in time to catch the Namek in the face and throw a neat blast to the bald human. He'd have to get back at that human for earlier… but right now it was more imperative to survive.

And to get more energy.

If only he could…

There.

The leech spotted his opening. Gohan was moving in for the attack. He thought he was being guarded on one side, but he wasn't. Trunks had misread the signals, obviously.

The leech easily dodged the blow and grabbed the Saiyan's neck, instantly digging his fingers into the flesh. Being taller, he easily held his victim aloft and, erecting a small shield, put his energy drain at full power.

…

Vegeta and Jiten both felt the jolt as the other battle shifted, but they completely ignored it.

Jiten was beyond scared as he tried to dodge Vegeta's blows. He knew he would never be able to look at his uncle again. He'd always known that Vegeta was gruff and strict, but not this walking nightmare that caused him pain that would never stop.

Jiten winced as another blow fell on his face. He had given up flying long ago and was moving along the ground, trying not to trip on the upturned rocks. He couldn't seem to look at Vegeta's face anymore. The look in those eyes, the lines on his face, the firmness of his lips… those all spelled horror for Jiten. He wanted to run away – to hide under his bed and will the monsters all away.

But he was caught, and there would be no rescue.

The boy felt like every part of his body was going to cave in, and only his weakness prevented him from spewing the previous night's supper all over the ground. Overtaken by a wave of lethargy and pain, Jiten stayed where he'd been knocked down, not even bothering to pull his face from the dust. He just wanted to die right there.

"Get up," he heard the gruff order. Jiten ignored it.

After a minute, Jiten felt himself being pulled up from the ground by his hair. He offered no resistance except to close his eyes.

"Look at me."

How many times had his mother said that to him…

"Look at me!" He was shaken.

Jiten opened his eyes to slits, feeling the blood and sweat sting his eyes all the more. Even through the pain, his eyes shouted defiance.

Suddenly the boy felt himself imbedded spread-eagle in a cliff wall. He closed his eyes again, not sure of what was going to happen next.

Hot ki encircled his ankles, wrists, waist, and neck. Jiten chanced to open his eyes to see that he'd been restrained by glowing bonds. He tugged at the restraints. No luck. He was just too weak.

The boy looked up to see his uncle advancing on him slowly. He pulled even harder, desperate to get away. He knew that his time was coming, and he knew that it was going to hurt.

"Those restraints are only going to get tighter," Vegeta said matter-of-factly.

Jiten didn't care. Maybe they would strangle him before Vegeta could kill him.

"I said stop!"

Despite his defiance, Jiten couldn't refuse the surprise order. He relaxed in the bonds, staring at Vegeta in fear.

"That's better," Vegeta growled. "I don't want you to die too soon."

Jiten started trembling. He couldn't help it. He knew that he was actually going to die. There was no mistaking that look in Vegeta's eyes now. It was complete and utter cruelty… with an almost insane tinge.

Jiten pressed himself further into the cliff. "Uncle… please…" he whispered.

He felt his head snap around, and his eyes teared. Vegeta had backhanded him.

"Don't you dare call me uncle!" Vegeta screamed. He was now practically shaking in fury. "You've lost that right! You gave that all up when you sold yourself to a master!"

Before he knew it Jiten was under a rain of blows. The only thing that was keeping him upright was the ki-bonds that tightened even more. Jiten merely gritted his teeth and bore it, wishing for an end to it all, be it Hoja or death.

Jiten sobbed, and it took him a minute to realize that Vegeta had paused in his assault. Vegeta was staring at him with a baleful glare – eyes that spoke of death to the child who felt nearly there.

Jiten looked down and cried, no long putting up any resistance, barely even acknowledging Vegeta's presence. Jiten couldn't even feel humiliation any more. All he could feel was pain and fear and the utter loneliness of being near death and having no one care.

"Do you know why I do this to you? Do you understand at all?"

Somehow Jiten was able to hear Vegeta over his own sobbing. He looked up in a sort of dull surprise, still sniffling. He couldn't speak. He merely shook his head.

Vegeta was standing apart from him now, crossing his arms. "I'm merely giving you a taste of what your life is going to be now."

If Jiten was expecting anything, it wasn't that.

"You've sold yourself to a master," Vegeta said calmly. "The only life you can have under a master is pain and death."

Despite the pain, Jiten managed to be skeptical. That didn't sound like Hoja at all.

Vegeta smirked as he saw the look on Jiten's face. "Yes, the leech must seem fine now, while he's securing your loyalty. You've just been separated from everything you know, and he'll find a way to completely cut you off, until he becomes everything to you." Vegeta's eyes shone with a manic fury and the past. "And he knows he's everything to you, that if he weren't around, you would have nothing. So he'll solidify that. He'll make you feel good about it, until you've given up everything that you used to be. Then, when he's accomplished that, he'll keep you around for amusement's sake. Since he has complete control over you, he'll start inventing games that you can't deny, and then he'll use them to hurt you, both mind and body. He'll set about breaking you – what little individuality and self-respect you have left. And you can't resist it. He'll get more sadistic, and the games will keep hurting more and more. And you'll have the burning desire to kill him. That desire will consume you, but you can't kill him. He owns you too completely. And when you finally attempt it, and fail…"

Jiten was holding his breath.

"… he kills you."

The two breathed together. Jiten hung limply in the bonds, which had slackened enough to allow blood flow, but not much more. Jiten was crying, yet silently this time.

Jiten read Vegeta carefully, trying to find a bit of deception of trap. There was none.

"I've shown you just a portion of what's in store," Vegeta said in a voice barely over a whisper. "There's no way I could show you everything. There are some things even I would not do. This is your life now, Jiten. It's never going to get any better than this."

Jiten trembled. He couldn't process. These were things that he knew he should never have learned… yet he didn't even know if they were true. He'd trusted Vegeta, but that was before Hoja and that was when he hadn't known this side of his uncle.

Hoja was good. Everyone else was in the way and holding him back.

Vegeta was scary… he'd beaten him up.

Vegeta didn't care about him. Jiten kept telling himself that. He… he hurt too much, and it was all Vegeta's fault. It wasn't like he'd been trying to kill anyone. He wasn't going to. Thing had just happened way too fast for Jiten to control. He hadn't deserved what he'd gotten…

But why was Vegeta talking to him now? Why did he even care to tell him these things? Jiten was completely open to anything that Vegeta wanted to do to him. Vegeta could kill him, and Jiten couldn't lift a finger to stop him. Jiten felt he could practically beg for death, anyway.

But why was Vegeta telling him all this?

_Master! Tell me what to do!!_

No one answered.

_Have I… been wrong the entire time?_

"Jiten."

The boy looked up, startled at the interruption of his thoughts. Vegeta was staring at him with an open expression.

_He… he does care?_

"Your master will probably be here to collect you soon enough. Right now he is trying to destroy our family and prevent your father coming back to life. Think about all this." Vegeta's scowl deepened. "I think it's too late for you, but I've been wrong before."

Jiten watched numbly as Vegeta turned his back.

"One last lesson."

Jiten held his breath.

Vegeta turned around, looking like he was steeling himself, hardening and closing his expression.

"Once the lesson is learned, the pain doesn't end."

Jiten screamed as the ki sliced through the air, burning into his skin until the cool darkness overtook him.

…

**Reviewer thanks**:

Wow! I feel much better with this huge response! I thought I had lost everyone with my horrible update rate.

**ClassicDrogn**: Heh-heh… I bet you didn't realize how right you were…

**Zara**** m**: I don't know. Better or worse? You decide.

**Erica**: Got something against Trunks? Well, maybe the leech will get him, anyway.

**Pannygirl**: I think we all have to ask the question… was Jiten ever normal?

**Dbzneon**: What a prophet! I guess if you really are prescient, you won't mind as much if I leave another cliffhanger… heh-heh. Really, what other kind of ending is there in a huge battle?

**Engar**: Yay! Huge reviews for both chapters makes me happy.

Ch 46

I tried to fit Jita and Goten's reactions in this chapter, but I couldn't seem to make it fit. I'll have to deal with them fairly soon.

I had to give Krillen some credit.

I really have absolutely no idea where the leech's character is going. I have the final battle written out in my mind, but it's evolving now. Mostly because I get ideas from readers' comments.

I never saw that bombshell coming either!

Ch 47

"quite the believable little screwup"… I love that description! I've always been fascinated with insanity, even the temporary kind. I guess I've been reading too much Nabokov.

I really wouldn't know where Jiten would go. Enma-sama is rather unpredictable in both the series and in fanfiction. Although, I wonder if the Voice would make another play for freedom…

I hope that you still enjoy Vegeta's characterization. I rather enjoyed writing this chapter, actually.

sighs

Long reviews deserve long responses.

**Crazed fanatic anime girl**: Glad to hear back from you. I think we can all agree that it sucks to be Jiten.

**Ilex9**: I am so horrible about typos. I try to proofread, but I get bored with it.

I'm glad you liked Eighteen and Krillen's moments to shine.

Ah, crap! I forgot about the tail! Uh… "The leech told Jiten not to look up that night…" Poetess said in monotone, "because then he'd lose his mental link…" Yeah! That works! Actually, I just forgot. It's too late to do it now, since the sun has risen, but maybe if I ever do a rewrite.

**Dark Wolf**: I have been waiting forever for you to read that! And I wrote it just for you!

Poetess: /thumbs through $1 billion while standing over smoking body of Wolf

Goku: Geez! You killed him!

Poetess: Yup!

Goten: But he was your friend!

Poetess: I'll pay you $100 to shut up.

Goten: takes money Sweet!

…heh-heh, don't know what got into me!

…

See y'all later!


	51. Alive

_In memory of Johnny Carson. While he never had anything to do with fanfiction or Dragonball Z, we still love him anyway. Thank you and goodnight._

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**: …

hides behind wooden crates, then peaks out

What, no rotten fruit?

Anyway, I know I've taken an unseemly amount of time away from fanfiction, so much so that people have been scolding me. I didn't get it until I reread last chapter. I can't believe I left it on a cliffhanger! I am so evil! No wonder everyone hates me…

All right, enough self-deprecation. I _have_ been extremely busy for the past few months. But I'm happy. I have some more people to tell the good news.

I might as well just put the announcement here. On June 11, Howler Wolfe, my co-writer and long-time boyfriend, and I will be joining hands in marriage. Yes, you heard right. We're getting hitched. Don't worry… I won't abandon fanfiction with wedlock. Just don't expect any updates of any of my stories in June… or July… or August… ; )

Right, now that I've completed my self-involved rambling… on with the show!

**Chapter 49: Alive**

Vegeta squinted in the intensifying light of the new day. The world was changing from blood red to a deep intense orange. Vegeta swallowed back the bile in his throat and reached out, just to make sure.

It was there.

Vegeta breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The pulse was there. The boy was still alive.

…

No one was watching the crystal anymore. Jita was staring ahead, her eyes seeming to vibrate with unexpressed emotion.

"Jita," Shin said quietly, "are you…"

"I'm fine," Jita said sharply.

She couldn't even look at Jiten anymore, or her brother. She'd forced herself to watch almost all of the "fight." In some crazed way, she hadn't wanted Jiten to be alone. She wanted to watch over him, feeling that at least could offer some protection.

Jita had seen her brother like that before. It was not the way he'd acted on most planet purges they'd been through together. On those times he'd let go, finding some kind of solace in the blood of others, practically rejoicing in that semblance of control in a life in which he had no other. And in some ways, she'd been the same way.

There were also times when he was majorly pissed. She understood those times, too. Those were the times when he was pure destruction, either of others or of himself. Jita got the feeling that that was the side of Vegeta most people on Earth had first seen.

But then there was this, something that she had bore the brunt of upon occasion. He wasn't pissed. Well… maybe a little. No, Vegeta was perfectly in control of everything. This was him teaching a lesson the only way he knew how… the only way he'd ever experienced.

And, Jita had to admit, it certainly was an effective learning experience to get the crap beaten out of you.

Jita shook her head, wondering why she was suddenly so detached. All through what she had just seen, she had felt like screaming… crying… exploding… something other than watching while her son was beaten to within an inch of his life.

_But at least he left him alive. He killed me before, when I rebelled against Frieza and went against Vegeta's plan. But he left Jiten alive._

As if that made her feel any better.

…

Pikkon held a straining arm to Goten's shoulder as he tried to keep the demi-Saiyan flaring his ki uncontrollably. Goten was breathing hard, sweat standing out on his face. A few dead warriors were bringing in another screen.

"It'll be alright," King Kai said soothingly, although he wasn't sure if that was an outright lie.

Goten was shaking in outright rage. "How the hell can you say that?" Goten said in a harsh whisper.

Not many were speaking. Even those who didn't understand the situation fully were simply afraid of provoking the obviously volatile Saiyan.

Pikkon was a little less cautious. "Goten, you're going to have to regain your balance and focus. You're going to be wished back any minute, and you need to prepare for battle."

"Oh, I'm focused, all right. I'm focused on what I'm going to do to that bastard when I get wished back to life."

"Which one?" Olibu said casually.

Goten knew they were just trying to bait him, so he deigned not to answer.

_Which one…_

Goten honestly didn't want to think about that. Right now all he saw was Vegeta embedding his fist into Jiten's gut. All he saw was Jiten coughing up blood.

But Jiten had denounced them all.

_Stop! I don't want to analyze it! I don't want to understand! I just want to do something! I want to save my son!_

_Vegeta betrayed me. Vegeta betrayed me when I was a child and Vegeta betrayed me now._

_He's always been there… unlike my father. Why is he doing this now?_

_I don't understand a damn thing._

The screen flickered to life, settling on the sight of Vegeta standing over Jiten's broken and unconscious body. Maybe corpse. Goten didn't know. He'd destroyed the screen before he could see.

"Hey, how did the kid get on that cliff wall?" someone asked.

Goten cocked his head, trying to see what holding Jiten onto the red rock. He could see a slight glowing… apparently Vegeta had bonded Jiten onto the rock with ki.

Apparently a lot had gone on since Goten had broken the screen.

_What is he doing… checking a pulse? So _now_ he worries about Jiten?_

"Well, at least he's alive," King Kai said. "I was worried for a minute there, but I knew that Vegeta couldn't kill the boy. He freaked out enough earlier when he thought that Eighteen had killed him."

Goten frowned at Jiten's obviously mangled body. _Some consolation…_

…

Vegeta felt Jiten's ki flickering, low yet steady. He was relieved. He'd calculated the force just right.

He checked everyone's ki. The leech hadn't moved from Capsule Corp, and his ki was getting stronger.

"All right, leech," Vegeta mumbled. "If you won't move, we'll have to up the ante."

Vegeta closed his eyes, relaxing his ki. He dimmed back from Super Saiyan to his normal state. Ki only inhibited what he was about to do.

_Jiten… are you there?_

Vegeta relaxed his mind, repeating the message to the boy in front of him. Even though Jiten was unconscious, a portion of his mind automatically twitched in answer. Vegeta smirked. The boy was a little more schooled in telepathy now, owing to the bond with the leech.

_There…_

The bond was there, wrapping around Jiten's mind like a vice. It was sophisticated, something that Vegeta couldn't even begin to go about breaking without destroying both of their minds. And he wasn't about to do that.

No, it was up to Jiten to break the bond between the two. Vegeta calmly analyzed the bond, seeing what he had expected. The bond was partially supported by Jiten, though reinforced by the leech. Parts of the bond looked far from natural, as if the leech had forced it on the boy.

"So…" Vegeta said quietly, "you didn't completely give yourself over to him. That's… good to know."

Jiten's subconscious didn't acknowledge, apparently too wrapped up in a dream to be bothered.

"Well…" Vegeta braced himself, "here goes."

Carefully, the Saiyan wrapped his own brain waves around the young Saiyan's brain, effectively shielding his mind from all others.

Jiten frowned and twisted, yet didn't regain consciousness.

"Hold on, Jiten," Vegeta said distractedly. "This will take just a few more minutes. Be strong."

Vegeta grinned as he felt the fluctuation in ki. The leech had finally given notice.

…

The leech noticed the change immediately.

The others didn't… couldn't. They kept attacking the leech, trying to avoid Gohan's captive body in their flurry of attacks. The leech didn't even feel their fists. He was looking toward the other battle that everyone had been trying so hard to ignore.

"Gods… he's really going to do it…" the leech said in a whisper.

_What are you doing? _the leech asked himself. _You don't have enough power yet. There's plenty right here that you can drain, and they can't do a thing about it._

_But Jiten is dying. I can't feel him in my head anymore. He's fading…_

Suddenly the power flying all around him didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered except preventing Jiten's demise. With a simple burst of ki, the leech blew back the struggling warriors. They landed hard on the ground, but the leech didn't notice. He barely remembered to drop Gohan's almost-drained body.

…

Trunks picked himself up, shaking his head wildly. He didn't have a clear idea what had happened, except their target was no longer there, and Gohan was lying unconscious on the ground.

"Krillen!" he heard Piccolo's gruff voice call out painfully. "Senzu… no, not for me, for Gohan!"

After a moment of staring about wildly, Trunks regained his ki-sense. "Wha… why did he run away?!" Trunks exclaimed.

Piccolo was a little calmer now that Gohan had a senzu in him. "Don't know. Best guess is Jiten, though I don't know why."

"He's headed for Jiten," Krillen commented. "And Jiten's still alive. That's a miracle in itself."

Trunks turned his head sharply. "Oh, honestly! You can't possibly think my _dad_ would murder _Jiten_! I mean, come on!"

Piccolo and Krillen looked at Vegeta's son, and didn't say anything. They didn't say Vegeta used to commit murder at the drop of a hat. They didn't say Vegeta had killed an entire village of Nameks not that long before he'd turned "good." They didn't even say that Vegeta had killed within Trunks's own lifetime – wasting a slice out of the crowd at the Budoukai… twice.

"Of course he wouldn't," Krillen said.

Piccolo said nothing.

Trunks turned away, knowing they were being condescending to him. The problem was, he didn't know the same man they knew. He only knew his father, and even at Trunks's age, his father was infallible.

_Trunks!_

"Yes, father," Trunks said immediately, ignoring the strange looks.

_The leech is gone, isn't he?_

Trunks nodded, but then immediately amended. "Yeah, he's gone and headed your way. What did you do?"

Piccolo and Krillen had by now figured out what Trunks was doing. Krillen rolled his eyes. "You know," he commented, "I'll never get used to that whole telepathic thing."

"What is Vegeta saying?" Piccolo demanded, ignoring Krillen.

Trunks held up a hand to silence so he could catch everything.

_…so I isolated the boy's bond from the leech. I'll stall him as much as I can, but I don't know how quickly he'll try to leech off my power. Wish Goten back now. He'll have probably learned how to guard against the leech._

"Got it," Trunks said. He turned to the others. "We're going to have to wish Goten back. Dad is stalling right now."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Gohan interjected weakly from the ground. He was trying to push himself up.

Trunks rushed over. "Hey, take it easy, man. Take it slowly."

"No time if we want anyone to live," Gohan grunted. He reached into his pocket and drew out the dragonball. "Gyah! I couldn't bear sitting on that thing any longer."

Krillen grinned. "Great!... uh… where are the other dragonballs?"

"Uh… excuse me?"

The four looked over to the Spider students. They hadn't even realized when the students had regained consciousness.

"What is it?" Piccolo growled.

Darjili held up the dragon radar. One dot was right on top of them, while six dots were moving steadily away from then, and had been for some time.

Pecon shifted. "I think they were on the plane."

Piccolo groaned. Krillen laughed incredulously. Gohan thumped his body heavily on the ground again in frustration.

But Trunks simply jumped in the air in the direction of the plane. "I'll get the dragonballs!" he shouted. "Go help Dad!"

"Trunks-san!" Darjili shouted, and threw the dragon radar, which Trunks caught adeptly.

"Thanks," he said, and disappeared.

The group stayed a moment to collect their thoughts. The entire night had felt like a wild goose chase, and they were nowhere nearer to winning than before.

"So," Danton said, not liking the stop in action. "We go?"

The students knew something was wrong when the warriors stared at them. Piccolo had a hard look, Gohan's more leaned toward pity, and Krillen's was obvious compassion.

Gohan grinned. "Um… looks like Trunks forgot this dragonball," Gohan held is up in proof. "You guys will probably need to guard it. We've had enough with chasing it down."

The students stood there, white-faced. They understood what was happening. They'd been expecting it for a year. They knew that they didn't stand a chance against the leech… but neither did anyone else! They'd seen the ineffectual battle the warriors had waged against the leech. And now they were just going to go rushing off and supplying more power to the leech? He already had Gohan's power!

Before they could respond, the warriors were gone.

Krianan laughed, tossing the dragonball up in the air and catching it. "Damn… well, it was bound to happen, wasn't it?"

"Useless humans," Pecon supplied under his breath.

Darjili's eyes hardened. "Come on." She rose in the air.

Danton raised an eyebrow. "What… are you doing? We were pretty much told to stay put."

"By whom?" Darjili smirked. "We don't really know them. Who made them boss? Anyway, if we meet Trunks in the air, it'll just be sooner than we can wish Goten-sensei back to life."

"Besides," Pecon took it up, "we need Pan."

The students grinned together. They were going to be whole again.

…

Vegeta didn't turn around. _First rule of throwing your opponent off-guard.__ Make them feel unimportant._

"What have you done?" the leech growled.

Vegeta smirked, raising his head. "He's important to you, isn't he? You went about making him your slave, but you went and got attached to him."

"Is he alive?!" the leech demanded.

Vegeta slowly turned around, releasing the hold he had on Jiten's mind. "Check for yourself, _Hoja_."

Vegeta couldn't believe the relief he saw in the leech's eyes. _This is one screwed-up guy. He's taken Jiten for a son instead of an underling._

"What do you care?" Vegeta asked pointedly.

To his credit, the leech's face remained immobile. "I don't. I've invested a lot of time and effort in that kid. Wouldn't want to see it all go to waste."

Vegeta smirked. "Of course." He paused, suddenly switching tracks. "You know I'm not going to forgive you."

The leech smirked back. "You cared for her, didn't you? You still do."

Vegeta raised his eyebrow. "I won't deny it. That's what family is all about."

"That's not exactly the impression I got." The leech bowed mockingly. "Shall we begin?"

Vegeta was suddenly golden with power. "I think so."

The air was brown with dust as the two powers collided. The battle was on.

Fighting with the leech was interesting, to say the least. Vegeta really wasn't sure what the best strategy was: physical attacks so the leech couldn't suck the ki from his ki attacks, or ki attacks so the leech couldn't suck the ki from his skin. He drew comfort in the fact that the leech didn't seem particularly interested in sucking power right now. The power he had gotten from Gohan was formidable enough.

Vegeta dodged attack after attack, ruminating he would usually be going all out on his opponents. At least, that's what he would do in his youth. But now he had no delusions about defeating the villain all by himself. He didn't even know how to go about it. No… he was just stalling for time.

A stray punch caught him on the back of the head and sent him skidding along the ground. He quickly caught his balance. _Not that I have to fight badly just because I'm stalling_, he berated himself, and plunged ahead.

The leech was stronger than what he'd sensed before. Obviously he had Gohan's power now. _So why isn't he taking a chunk out of my ki? Unless he wants to take a chunk out of my flesh for beating on Jiten._

Vegeta had a feeling that plenty of people were going to be angry about that little stunt.

Vegeta moved back enough to try out a wide-spread ki attack. He reasoned that he could experiment now so there would be no surprises for whoever fought him later. The attack was formidable in its scope, but required little of his own energy. It was best for planet purges, but it could definitely work here.

His vision seemed to go negative as he launched the bright attacks. The leech was a black outline, deftly dodging each tiny attack. Vegeta condensed the attack just to see what would happen.

Some attacks scored, but nothing happened.

Vegeta scanned the leech's ki. Just as he thought. There was a miniscule power upgrade.

But then why was the leech dodging all the attacks. Vegeta was giving out free ki by the bucketfuls, decreasing his own while potentially increasing the leech's. And the leech surely couldn't have reached his limit already. If he had, their battle would by easier than he'd thought. And he had a feeling there was more to the leech than that.

Vegeta stopped his attacks abruptly and moved in to grab the confused leech. Taking him by the heels, Vegeta swung the leech around repeatedly until letting him go to crash into the ground.

He waited patiently for the leech to pull himself out. There was no telling what the leech had up his sleeve, and Vegeta knew that he'd have to test his opponent more before he could come even close to being confidence.

"What's the matter, Vegeta?" came a voice behind him. "Run out of ki attacks? And they were so weak, too."

Vegeta turned around and raised an eyebrow. "You know, I hate teleportation. It's really a cheap trick."

The leech smiled. "Maybe I moved too fast for you to see."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Please. At your ki level?"

The leech shrugged. "Or maybe I'm just playing around. Like you are."

"So you want to begin the real fight now?" Vegeta said nonchalantly, dusting off his sleeves.

The leech gave no reply, and Vegeta had to dodge fast. The leech wasn't playing around. Vegeta could tell. The leech was really angry at him. Vegeta still couldn't get it. All this for an underling – a tool for the leech? That's just not the way murderous kidnappers worked.

The fight was fast-paced, and Vegeta finally had to push himself up a level to have a chance at the upper hand. The leech was obviously getting used to Gohan's extra power. _It must take a while for him to assimilate new ki…_

_… which is probably why he hasn't taken mine yet. Of course!_

Vegeta got the smirk he got whenever he got a stroke of genius. He'd found a weakness. It was small, and he still didn't know how long the leech had to wait to drain more ki, but the weakness was there. If they got to him early, they'd be able to defeat him.

_Forget Goten. I can handle this guy on my own!_

With that, Vegeta punched the leech square in the jaw with all his strength, sending the leech careening into the distance like a cartoon character.

…

Bulma had calmed down now that she and her daughter were out of harm's way. No matter how many times the earth had been threatened, as well as her own life, Bulma still kept her rigid self-preservation. If there was any way to keep out of danger, she took it.

"We should be at Chichi's place in about ten minutes," Bulma commented to her daughter.

Bra didn't answer. She hadn't spoken since they'd boarded the plane.

"Bra?" Bulma asked tentatively.

Bra's head popped up, as if hearing her mother for the first time. "What?"

Bulma resisted the urge to look Bra in the eye, knowing she had to keep watching the road… uh… sky. "What's wrong?"

Bra curled up in the copilot's chair, loosening the seatbelt in the process. Bulma resisted the urge to correct her. "What isn't wrong?" Bra said quietly. "I mean, I thought all this 'saving the world' stuff would be exciting. Like an adventure on TV, or one of the stories I hear at reunions. But this seems nothing like Frieza, or Cell, or Buu even. It just seems so…" She paused.

Bulma closed her eyes briefly in the pause. "Uncontrollably terrifying? Like you can't get your bearings, and you might die in the meantime?"

Bra shrugged, keeping her face pointedly in the other direction. "Nah, not exactly."

_Yes, exactly_, Bulma thought. "Bra… those stories at the reunions. You have never heard the whole story. You probably never will. Even if I told you the whole story, I wasn't there for everything. And everyone else would gloss over the terrifying details… especially your father."

"Yeah, but you guys always knew what you were doing."

Bra looked up in surprise at her mother's laughter. "What?"

Bulma smiled. "When I was on Namek, I hid in a cave. I was harassed by soldiers, terrified by the fact that my spaceship was broken… I had no idea what was going on. The only people on the planet I knew were Gohan, who was five at the time, and Krillen, who was just as scared as I was. I couldn't bathe, could barely sleep, it was always daylight, and then the planet started breaking under my feet. That combined with a maniacal body-switching frog, and that was the most terrifying time of my life. As people who don't fight, we usually don't know what's going on until the very end. In the meantime, we just have to trust our crazy fighters, most of whom would rather have a fair and exciting fight rather than kill the enemy."

Bra cast her eyes down as the thought inevitably wedged itself in her head. "I could have learned to fight…"

"Now's not the time for 'what-ifs,'" Bulma interjected suddenly. "I'd rather have you on the sidelines than running off to get killed. I never liked Trunks going off all the time, and I wouldn't want to suffer doubly like Chichi does. Besides, you have a good life, and you don't have to fight to prove yourself."

Bra smirked. "So don't be like my father?"

"You got that right."

A knock at the door interrupted them.

The bizarreness of the occurrence had to sink in. Bulma cleared her throat. "Um… Bra? Why don't you answer the door?"

Bra gave a half-laugh, but then shakily got up. She strode over to the door and released the locking mechanism.

Suddenly she realized why there was a locking mechanism. They were moving near the sound barrier. She felt the gut-wrenching sensation of being sucked out of the plane, the wind grabbing at every molecule. She only felt that for a second, though. Strong arms wrapped around her, and the door was shut just as quickly.

"Hey, sis. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to open a door when the vehicle is moving?"

Bra regained her feet, careful not to show how shaken she was to her brother, who had nonchalantly been flying sideways next to the door, as if he were simply waiting at a front door on the ground. "Mom told me to. Blame her."

"What do you need, Trunks?" came the irritated response from the pilot's seat.

"Well, it _is_ nice to be alive, and thank you for asking," Trunks smarted off. "Oh, and by the way, we might need those dragonballs."

Bra laughed. Bulma smacked her own head against the dashboard. "Stupid."

…

Gohan, Piccolo, and Krillen set their feet firmly on the sidelines, having learned from their previous experience, as Vegeta and the leech matched each other perfectly.

"So what do we do now?" Gohan complained.

"Vegeta'll get pissed if we move in on his fight," Krillen explained. Vegeta had certainly mellowed over the years, but Krillen didn't want to test that out the hard way.

"So?"

"We get the kid," Piccolo interjected.

They all looked over to where Piccolo was indicating. There, fairly far away from the fighting, was Jiten, bound to a cliff. From where the warriors were they could tell that he was breathing and alive, though completely unconscious. He had lost all the ki he had previously stolen, and seemed like a simple kid taking a nap at the moment.

"Take him while the leech is distracted," Piccolo continued. "This is no place for a kid, and he could only be an asset to the leech when he wakes up."

"Since when are kids barred from fights," Gohan commented bitterly.

"Since I said so. Now come on," was Piccolo's rough reply.

Gohan and Krillen shrugged and followed. They had no desire to fight the leech, or to get in between Vegeta and his target, so they figured this would be the safest thing they could do.

The fight raged on behind them. Vegeta was controlled, and seemed to be leading the fight further away. He obviously knew they were there. On the other hand, the leech was enraged and crazy. It seemed unlikely he knew anything was in the world except him and his opponent.

This was certainly a change from many of the fights they had witnessed in the past.

The ki-bonds around Jiten were amazingly easy to dissipate. Piccolo snapped them quickly, letting the boy's broken body fall over his shoulder. But he wouldn't give Jiten a senzu. Not yet. Not when everything was still so unpredictable.

"But where are we going to take him?" Krillen whispered ridiculously in light of the ongoing war above them.

"Capsule Corp.? Kame House?" Gohan suggested. "The middle of nowhere? Mom and Dad's?"

"Middle of nowhere sounds good out of those choices," Piccolo rumbled. "But we'd best go to Kami's Lookout. There are places there were we can secure Jiten, and he can do no harm to himself or anyone else."

"What are you suggesting? Padded walls and a straight jacket?" Krillen commented sarcastically.

"We don't have time to argue, Krillen!" Piccolo argued hoarsely. "We have to leave before he finds out…"

Piccolo trailed off as he, as well as the other two, realized that they no longer heard any fighting, and no threatening or blustering that usually went on in such a pause. They looked up just in time to see the leech, eyes ablaze, descending on them.

…

"Trunks-san!"

Trunks heard the call from the air and sped to its source on the ground. The dragonballs immediately glowed in his arms, reacting to the proximity of the final one. The spider students were clustered around, waiting impatiently.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Krianan yelled.

Trunks carefully unloaded the dragonballs, which was ridiculous since they were fairly indestructible. "I thought you kids would be waiting at Capsule Corp."

"What, where it's safe?" Darjili asked incredulously. "No place is safe right now, and we're running out of time! So make the wish already!"

The air suddenly stirred with excitement. There they were, facing the gathered dragonballs, which were shining ominously. They finally had the tools to wish Goten back… and it almost seemed like too huge a step to take.

"So what's the password?" Trunks asked in the stunned silence.

There was a beat.

"How should we know?!" Pecon screamed, finally losing his cool. "You're the one who knows everything!"

Trunks glared at the younger man. "It's not like I've ever used the dragonballs before! I never needed them… and other people gathered them when we did."

Danton stepped in. "Calm down and ask someone already. The dragonballs have been used enough that someone on this planet has to know the password."

Trunks immediately went to the first mind he could touch. _Dad!_

There was a pause, and waves of frustration over interrupted concentration. Finally, a _what?!_

Trunks ignored whatever circumstances were distracting his father. _Do you know the password for the dragonballs?_

Trunks winced as a few choice and decidedly foreign words were flung his way. _How am I supposed to know… hold on…_

…

"What the password for the dragonballs? Anyone know?!" Vegeta screamed out over the sounds of battle. Thankfully, the leech was too interested in prying himself out of a mountain to hear what was being said.

"I never used them," Krillen replied. "Piccolo? You should know. You're half Kami, after all."

Piccolo was trying to regain his energy and had little patience for these questions. "As Kami I never had to use a password. I just called the dragon. Gohan, you were there for most of the resurrections after Frieza. What do you remember?"

Gohan tried to remember, and then glared. "OK, I was, like, five at the time. I don't remember! Besides, why do you want to know, Vegeta?"

Vegeta didn't answer, but mumbled something about his idiot son. He was far too interested in the rejuvenated leech making time to their position… as well as Jiten who was slowly regaining consciousness.

…

Trunks waited, the Spider students waiting rather more impatiently.

_I don't know, boy! Ask your mother!_

Trunks laughed. Now there was an idea.

"OK, I'll be right back. Gotta ask Mom what the password is," Trunks said hurriedly.

"Wait a minute, Trunks-san…" Darjili said distractedly. Unexpectedly, she was holding a cell phone to her ear… and it was Trunks's cell phone.

"Hey," Trunks complained. "How'd you do that?"

Darjili shushed him and put a hand over her other ear. "OK, thanks Mrs. Briefs. Yeah, I'll be sure to tell him." She hung up the cell phone and tossed it to Trunks.

"How'd you do that?" Trunks repeated.

"You were distracted in that telepathic thing," Darjili said casually. "It was easy." Then she turned around…

"Dragon, come forth! Grant me my wishes!"

…

Chichi smiled from where she was looking out the large living room window. The sky was dark. Her son was coming home.

…

The warriors of Earth, from human to Saiyan to Namek to whatever else, had one thing in common. It wasn't the love of fighting, for so many humans had given it up, and a few of the truly strong ones didn't even fight. It wasn't bravery, for some had no claims to or delusions of bravery. Some knew when the terrified retreat was the best course of action, while others would stand there and let his head be chopped off rather than show cowardice.

The warriors of Earth, along with anyone else in existence, were overwhelmed by the dragon.

That's a reason that Piccolo, Sr. killed the dragon once. That's why even Vegeta had hesitated in front of Porunga, even for the most miniscule second, in his quest for immortality. That's why even Goku and Bulma, old pros at anything involving the dragon, would still stare in wonder at the green body curled around the black sky, and the red eyes piercing down at them.

"Speak your wish," Shenlong, the Immortal Dragon, pronounced in a rumbling voice. It was not a request or an offer. This was an unmistakable order. It meant that, since you have summoned him, you bear the responsibility for all the consequences of your wish… and any consequences in actually summoning him.

Darjili was the first to break out of the spell. "I want to wish Goten back to life!" she shouted, even though the dragon could hear the smallest whisper from miles away.

The red eyes flashed, and the small people on the ground shivered in anticipation. But they did not dare express any impatience to the monster in front of them.

"Your wish is granted," the dragon rumbled. "What is your second wish?"

But the second sentence was lost on the Spider students and Trunks. They were whooping in victory, relief, and happiness. Goten was alive again.

…

Hercule wandered around his old familiar Budoukai tournament ring. The ring, and adjoining temple, may have belonged to the monks, but the tournament itself had long been his, and he was already deep into planning for the next Budoukai. They were trying to find better security measure for the tournament. The problem was, too much weird stuff went on and too many people died during this seemingly innocent event.

"Mr. Satan," Tinted Rayban went on, "the tournament is always better with these 'weirdos,' as you call them."

"I know that!" Hercule retorted. "If you like the moon being blown up, the ring being eliminated, people attacking from the stands, people obliterating _the stands_, and people dying and getting kidnapped…"

The Budoukai announcer waved his hands. "All right, I get it! Your tournaments were safer. But we can't discriminate like that. We can't bar legitimate fighters and returning champions and the like. And, if we're talking about weirdos, then what about him?"

Rayban pointed his thumb over at Buu, who was turning somersaults and singing a song about chocolate. Hercule suppressed a good-natured laugh at his friend's antics.

"Hey, no one talks about Buu. Buu's no weirdo, he's just special."

"You could say the same about Goku."

Hercule wasn't about to argue with that.

Yet before he could get another word in, Buu suddenly yelled, "Yay! Yay! Yay! Boy's alive, yay!"

A second later, in a quick burst of light, Goten was lying on the tiles of the Budoukai ring.

…

I would like to thank all of my ever-faithful reviewers:

**dbzneon**: Yes, you are right about the Frieza thing. And yes, I really really _really_ loved writing Vegeta in that way. I had that scene mapped out entirely in my head. It was really really cool, wasn't it?

**zara m**: Well, it's hard to tell if Vegeta's actions are going to make things better or worse. It certainly has pissed off a lot of people, though. And you know how pissy Goten can get.

**Pannygirl**: I wonder if you're singing that tune now.

**Erica**: Yes, I tend to make plenty of people suffer.

**ilex9**: Hmmm… Hoja's character is difficult. I think I'm leaning more toward pitifully psychotic than anything else… what do you think?

**Engar**: I like that description of Vegeta. He's a downright bastard… he-he. It's a tough balance to make him just enough of a bastard without completely alienating him from the group. But it's nice to cross the line every once in a while. About Goten… I think there's a lot he just needs to accept, such as that his father-figures have never been perfect, and were never meant to be perfect. While watching a man severely beat your son is hard to accept, I think it's something that he needs to do on his own, and no one can "put in a good word" for anyone.

**Dark Wolf**: Ha-ha!!! You thought Vegeta killed him! I faked you out! And then you can't get wished back, either…. Yeah, and Vegeta isn't that much of a bastard.

**dbzneon**: Here it is!!! Not before the end of the year, but let's not split hairs.


	52. Boy Back

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**: Here comes the bride… No one has died…

Yes, it's me, back after a month and a half of matrimonial bliss with my fiftieth installment of The Soul. I can't believe I haven't finished this story yet. I just hope I haven't lost _all_ of my readership yet.

I make no promises of quick updates. Just know that I intend to finish this story, so keep looking for updates every few months.

* * *

**Chapter 50: Boy Back**

Goten blinked. The sky was suddenly dark, and he had landed with a thud on some sort of granite.

And then, the sky was pink.

"Boy's back! Boy's back! Yay yay ya!"

Goten smiled in spite of himself. "Hello, Buu."

The pink sky suddenly opened in a row of white teeth as the bouncy monster grinned. Buu reached a hand out, which Goten gratefully took. Hercule had been at great pains to teach Buu that consideration in a fight means helping people up after you've beaten them. Since then, Buu helped everyone up, even if they didn't want it. The servants at the Satan mansion couldn't get a good night's sleep for Buu "helping" them out of bed.

Goten stretched, momentarily enjoying the feel of his heart beating. He hadn't realized how wonderful a sensation that could be until he was deprived of it for a year.

He looked around and, sure enough, Hercule was with Buu.

"Goten, my boy! Long time no see! Why did it take them so long to wish you back this time?"

"Oh, because I had to train for the end of the world again. You know how that is."

Hercule suddenly drew back, his face contorting in horror. "The world is ending? When did this happen?" He gulped and tried to summon what courage he had. "Well, I guess I should…"

Goten laughed and waved his hand. "Don't worry. If anyone finds out about it, I'll just give you the credit again. It's not like I want it."

As for the famed announcer, he was trying to get his therapist on speed-dial. "Not again. Please tell me someone didn't come back to life again."

He ignored both Hercule and Tinted Rayban. Goten was more concerned with the fight that was going on miles from there. Vegeta, Piccolo, Krillen, and Gohan were all fighting the leech, and not doing a very successful job of it. His son was with them as well.

_Come on, Goten. Gotta think._

Goten knew that he was still at a bit of a disadvantage. The leech had sucked a lot of power, though less than he had feared. Yet he could easily catch up by draining Vegeta or someone. Goten had to find help somewhere.

"Boy back! Boy fight! Join in fight! Yay yay ya!"

A slow grin lit up Goten's face as he remembered his history.

"Hey, Buu!" he said suddenly.

Buu halted his dancing around to stare at him in a seemingly sight-less gaze. "Boy?"

"You wanna help me fight? It'll be fun!"

Buu's face lit up like Christmas. "Fun fight! Me join in fun fight!"

Goten laughed. "Race you over there!"

That was all the incentive the pink creature needed. Buu was going to have fun.

* * *

Vegeta was not having fun at all.

He pulled himself off the ground for seemingly the hundredth time. He was frustrated to see that Jiten was still on the cliff face, and no one could pull away long enough to get him out of here.

On the other hand, the sky was dark and Goten's ki was blazing. Things were looking up… finally.

Summoning some reserve power and gritting his teeth, Vegeta plunged into the leech head-on, knocking him away for possibly miles. It wasn't an honorable tactic. The leech had been too involved in his fight with Gohan to notice Vegeta. But it had worked.

Vegeta stopped and made some quick mental calculations. At top speed, it would still take Goten about fifteen minutes to get there. They only had a minute to the leech to regain his senses and fly back to the battle. They had to get Jiten out of there, if only to take away a distraction from Goten while he was fighting. The leech could easily use the boy against Goten.

But, in the meantime, Vegeta had to stall.

"Take the boy and get out of here! All of you!" he shouted.

Krillen was pulling himself out of a new rock formation. Gohan was gasping for breath, still not entirely recovered from his energy drain. Piccolo was regenerating an arm.

Gohan was the first to speak. "We can't… just leave you here… Vegeta," he said between breaths.

Vegeta snarled, hating his word to be questioned during battle. "Are you insane! I told you to get out of here and protect Jiten! Now do as I say!"

Even Piccolo couldn't refuse that order.

Krillen was already carefully pulling Jiten off the cliff wall. Vegeta couldn't remember if he'd given the boy any broken bones. Probably a few broken ribs – easily fixed up by senzu beans. In the meantime, a fighter just wasn't a fighter until he'd broken something in his life.

"What are you going to do?" the meddling Namek asked.

Vegeta grunted, wishing they would just go away. "The boy's alive, but he's not here yet. We need to get Jiten out of here – too much distraction. Just go."

Piccolo smirked. "Right, Vegeta. You stall." He gave a respectful nod and took off after Krillen and Gohan.

Vegeta growled. "Damn Namek thinks he knows so much."

Vegeta turned to the direction he'd sent the leech flying. Either he'd hit him harder than he thought, or the leech was stalling. Either way…

The leech suddenly appeared, taking Vegeta completely by surprise. Yet… he hadn't used teleportation (one of the more annoying ki abilities). Teleportation had a distinctive feel to it.

The leech certainly looked calmer. He was no longer raving in rage. Yet Vegeta wondered just how calm the leech was beneath the surface.

"So, the others have left with my acolyte?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. Could the leech have possibly been waiting for them to take Jiten? That didn't make sense. But that was certainly the vibe Vegeta was getting from his enemy.

"Probably for the best anyway," the leech went on casually. "I wasn't planning on using Jiten extensively in any fighting. It just turned out that way."

"Since you abandoned him," Vegeta retorted.

The leech rolled his eyes. "Um, excuse me, I was mortally wounded at the time. What would you have done? Oh, right, you would have keeled over and died and let your friend Goku do the fighting for you."

Why was it that every villain thought that baiting Vegeta into doing something stupid by insulting his pride would work?

"I guess now that your savior Goku is out of the picture, you have to wait for one of his sons to save your ass… again."

It's because that it always works.

Vegeta charged blindly. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew what he was doing was completely stupid. He knew that he'd done the same thing before – countless times before. He knew that Goten had done the same thing a year ago, and had died in the process.

As usual, he told that little weasley voice to shut up.

The leech went with the attack calmly, starting the close fistfight that Vegeta had hoped to avoid. But Vegeta didn't care at the time. He was more interested in ripping the leech a new one, wherever he could.

But, through the fury, Vegeta didn't register that the leech was getting stronger and faster. Or that he was getting weaker.

Suddenly, in a maneuver that Vegeta would never be able to figure out, the leech knocked him around and grabbed him by the neck and started squeezing.

Flashes of the many memories Vegeta had when he'd been in this very situation flashed before his eyes, along with the stars that usually accompanied lack of oxygen. He clawed at the leech's hands and flailed his legs, but to no avail. The leech was too fast, anticipating each move and moving just enough out of the way to avoid each weak blow. For the ten millionth time in his life, Vegeta wished that he had longer arms and legs.

Vegeta couldn't even scream – not that he wanted to. But some kind of release would have been nice. Especially when he felt the subtle weakening intensify.

_Dammit! He's… draining my power._

Vegeta closed out all thoughts of strategy as he began to panic. He would take care of himself and remain calm as long as someone didn't have him by the throat. Before, whenever someone would be choking him (a rather annoying common practice in Frieza's Army), Frieza would intervene or, if he were the one doing the choking, would stop well before killing him. Being saved by Frieza had been humiliating, but it had helped survival.

Now there was no one to save him.

Vegeta cursed himself, knowing he'd gotten himself into this mess by giving into his anger. He knew better. Years and years of experience had taught him better. He'd thought he had changed. But, when the chips were down, Vegeta hadn't changed a bit.

And now that was going to kill him.

Vegeta, now too weak with lack of oxygen to do anything, tried to ignore the leech. He'd rather not be looking in the leech's eyes while he died. He didn't want that to be his last image of the living world.

The sky was pretty. It was black, of course, with a pink and blue rainbow splitting the darkness.

…what?…

Vegeta blacked out for a second, and then slowly things began returning to normal. Now that he could breathe, though his throat felt like one big bruise, he could tell that the ordeal hadn't lasted long, and that the leech hadn't taken much power. Just enough to take Vegeta out of the fight for a while.

Vegeta looked further up to see Goten and… Buu?… standing before the leech. Buu was dancing around like an idiot, while Goten… was looking rather dangerous.

"Vegeta, you all right?" Goten yelled down, not taking his eyes off his enemy.

It was a considerate question, but Vegeta felt such a hostile vibe coming from Goten… one that he'd never felt before. In fact, it was taking up part of Goten's energy.

When Vegeta remembered what Goten was probably so pissed off about, he chuckled ironically. He guessed he deserved that.

But it was taking up too much of Goten's concentration. Even after a year of Otherworld training, Goten still lacked the focus that he needed. He was much like his father in some of the earlier fights Vegeta had witnessed.

"I'm all right, boy! And so's Jiten! Just kill the bastard!" Vegeta yelled hoarsely, feeling like his throat would split open as he did.

With that, Vegeta took off.

* * *

Goten watched his brother-in-law go. _Which bastard are you talking about, Vegeta?_

It was strange for Vegeta to be running away from a fight, even if he was fairly beat up and weak. He usually stayed around and tried to get back in the fight, if at all possible.

As Goten's eyes focused on the leech, he stopped contemplating Vegeta. He just didn't care anymore. Besides, he'd deal with the prince soon enough.

At least Jiten was safe for the moment. That would make things a whole lot easier.

He realized the leech wasn't speaking. Instead, the enemy was trembling in fear. Goten grinned. So he'd been right.

"Wh-what… is that THING doing here?" the leech stammered.

Goten grinned wider, wringing the moment for all its worth. "Oh, so you've met Majin Buu. Yeah, he heard that a leech was around, and he couldn't help but join in."

Buu had no idea what Goten was talking about. He really didn't even know what a leech was, his memories of the past being not all that important or clear to him. But he knew the fine art of playing along with a joke. Buu grinned, guessing Goten's intent. "Buu smash!"

For the leech's credit, he was beginning to collect himself. "So, boy, you think you can just rise from the dead and bring a monster from the past… and that will be all it takes to defeat me."

Goten shrugged. "Sounded pretty convincing to me." Goten wanted to explode in anger. This was the man who'd kidnapped and corrupted his son. This was the man who'd sent his wife to hell. This was the very man who'd stabbed him in the heart.

But Goten had learned from that death experience, as well as Pikkon's endless training. He knew that he had to keep patience and control. Otherwise, he'd just die again.

But the leech seemed to be getting a little of his swagger back. "So you want to fight me, boy. You want to claim vengeance over me. Don't think I don't see it in your eyes. You may be calmly mocking me, but inside you're raging. You want to tear me into as many shreds as possible, and then blast those shreds into oblivion."

Goten just glared at him.

"But you can't," the leech smirked. "If you knew that bringing that monster would spook me – throw me off balance for just a second – you would probably know about my kind… and what happens to acolytes after the death of a leech."

Goten laughed softly, knowing that the leech was really nervous, and trying to build himself up by outlining his advantages. "And you're actually wondering where my confidence came from, after I know all about your kind. You're wondering if I'm really as heartless to be willing to kill both you and my son after that, or if I think that I can save Jiten from your grasp."

"Where did your confidence come from? Foolhardiness."

Goten shook his head slowly and smirked. "Preparedness."

With that he pulled out the leech's knife and attacked.

* * *

"What is your second wish?"

That had been the fifth time the dragon had intoned that expression ominously from the sky. Somehow, he seemed to be losing his intimidation factor, as the humans beneath him were not even paying attention to him.

In fact, Trunks and the Spider students were paying attention to the battle that raged far from them. Vegeta had been fighting the leech – and losing – and suddenly the long-dead ki of Goten had taken over.

Darjili had wondered what she would feel when Goten's ki appeared, and they knew that he was alive and well. Surely she would have felt elated. After all, it was the first time she'd experienced the ability to cheat death. That in itself should have been exhilarating. And the revival of her long-dead teacher, who she missed sorely every day and mourned for every night…

She should have been twirling in the air with joy.

But the feeling wasn't there. So Goten-sensei had been revived. There was still a fight going on – one that seemed nearly impossible to win. And there was Jita… never to return to the living world.

Or any world.

"Goten-sensei is strong," Pecon whispered.

Trunks snorted. "Of course he is. I would expect no less."

"What is your second wish?"

Trunks suddenly snapped back into reality, realizing that they had a very impatient Eternal Dragon hanging literally over their heads. "Damn… I hadn't even thought about a second wish. I guess we should tell Shenlong to go and save that wish to resurrect everyone the leech and Jiten killed."

_As if that would truly happen_, Darjili thought bitterly. Jita was just out of reach, and the dragon could never bring her back.

_Or could he?_

There the dragon was, dominating the sky of the entire world, having broken the laws of nature and done the impossible. He exuded power of the eons. He was the Eternal Dragon – Shenlong.

And if he couldn't handle a little resurrection from the depths of Hell, what good was he.

Before Trunks could even get a word in, Darjili felt herself act on impulse.

"Eternal Dragon, I wish that everyone the leech and Jiten killed to be resurrected!"

"Darjili, no! Not yet!" Trunks screamed… all too late.

* * *

Lieutenant Tomlinson had had a hard night. An officer in homicide, he'd been brought to the scene of the… crime?…, along with a bunch of other departments when they couldn't seem to label what happened.

"If I didn't know better," Tomlinson muttered, "I'd say that Cell was back in town."

No one responded. It was considered bad luck to even mention Cell unless you were referring to Hercule having defeated him. Cell had come to represent terror, and uncontrollable disaster.

Tomlinson snorted. They'd had enough bad luck around here.

A younger officer came trotting up to the lieutenant, using the youthful energy that Tomlinson couldn't even begin to call forth from his body. Yet he was faring better than the new-looking officer, who was looking green around the gills.

"Results back from the lab, sir," he reported in a shaky voice. "All points indicate some sort of bomb that exploded in the center of the building."

Tomlinson stared the boy down. " 'Some sort?' Can they get a little clearer on that?"

The young man gulped. "No, sir. Although…"

Tomlinson cocked his head. "Report."

The young officer pushed forward. "The lab people mentioned seeing something like the pattern before. In the Cell attacks. And before in the alien attack to East Capital City."

Tomlinson nodded. He would have guessed as much.

"Forensics hasn't done any post-mortems, have they?"

"No sir," the young officer replied. "As per your orders. But… sir… Why did you order that?"

Tomlinson, despite the wreckage around him, chuckled. "Because the sky's dark. I don't want anyone coming alive while someone's cutting into them."

Right on cue, he could hear shrieks and confused cries. The young officer turned pale and fainted dead away.

Tomlinson turned around and calmly unzipped a body bag. Inside was a young woman who'd been struggling to get out. She looked a little shaken, but none the worse for wear.

"First resurrection?" Tomlinson asked casually.

The young woman looked around dazed. "Yeah." Her speech was dazed and slurred. "Big pagoda. Gay demons. Tiny, tiny yellow ghosts."

Tomlinson grinned before he went off to restore order. "Glad to hear the afterlife hasn't changed."

* * *

It had happened within a second.

If there was one thing that the Supreme Kai hated about mortals, it was that they were impulsive. They never stopped and thought about what they were doing. They always rushed in, half-cocked, not caring if they ended up dead on the other side. Earth people were especially good at that annoying habit.

So it shouldn't really have surprised him when Darjili made that foolhardy wish.

With reflexes that even the supreme being didn't know he had, Shin surrounded Jita's aura with his own. Jita appeared to have gone into a trance. That wasn't going to last long.

"Wh-what is this?" Rou Dai-Kaioshin screeched as he grabbed his crystal ball.

Shin gritted his teeth and pressed the words through the strain. "My barrier! The force of the wish is trying to break the barrier… Jita! Help me out here!"

There was no response. Shin managed to twist his head around to get a better look at the Saiyan.

It wasn't a trance. She was working against him.

She wanted to go home.

The Supreme Kai's mind went white with terror. Jita's desire, along with the power of the dragon, was strong enough to eventually break the quarantine barrier that surrounded the planet. Hell, it was strong enough to break the planet itself.

But she couldn't! It would destroy everything.

"Jita, no!" Shin cried vainly. He could sense the barrier start to break. The planet itself was deceptively calm around them. The real storm was going on in the minds of Jita and Shin.

Shin broke a little of his concentration go to grab Jita's arms and shake her. He didn't know why; perhaps anger at him would break her out of this. "Jita, you know you can't! It hasn't been a full year yet. It may just be one more hour, but it's enough. You can't do this to the universe!"

Jita focused her eyes on Shin, obviously still trying to break the barrier. "You don't understand," she whispered hoarsely. "My family needs me. My husband is about to die down there. He's going to die," she finished in a sob. "I'm the only one who knows how to fight the leech."

"Jita…"

"GO TO HELL!" Jita shrieked.

"WHY DON'T YOU!" Shin roared.

Jita fell back, her eyes open wide. The Supreme Kai made it a practice never to lose his temper, even when the universe was on the line. But now that he had, it was a horrible sight to see.

Shin's eyes slitted dangerously. "Along with the rest of the universe. That's what you want, isn't it? You've got the "I'm not a hero" vibe. Well, like it or not, you are. When you sacrificed yourself to the Lord of the Lower Realms of Hell, you gave up on being a normal, selfish person. You now have a responsibility to the universe, and if you leave now, you betray that responsibility. And everyone, including me, will judge you as harshly as that."

Jita looked down. "That's not fair," she whispered.

The force against the barrier was gone as suddenly as it came. Shin tried to gain control of his breathing as he suddenly felt like he'd lost a tug of war. "Where'd the dragon go?"

Jita closed her eyes and chuckled tiredly. "I told him to go to hell."

* * *

"Your wish has been granted," Shenlong intoned. "Now allow me to rest."

"Wait!" Darjili screamed. "Where's Jita!"

Shenlong paused. "It was impossible to grant that part of the wish. Now leave me alone."

With that the dragon was gone. The sky turned an unfittingly cheery shade of blue dotted with white clouds.

Trunks turn to Darjili in a rage. "How could you DO that! After all we worked for… You jeapordized…" Trunks stopped, taking a breath, and calmed. "I'm just so glad you tried."

Krianan looked from one person to another, all seemed to be in the drama of the moment. Far away from them, the battle for Earth raged on. "OK, if everyone's through being _schizo_ around here, why don't we go fight us a leech."

No one had an argument for that.

* * *

The battle was actually going quite well for Goten. The leech hadn't expected the boy to figure out some of the base properties of the knife. He'd obviously learned some leech-fighter secrets in his training.

Hoja hissed as the blade sliced into his shoulder a bit… right nearby a psychic pressure point. Yes, the boy knew his stuff. It was taking everything he had to evade the boy.

"You know," the leech gasped, "even if you succeed in breaking the connection, that doesn't mean that the boy's yours. Jiten's been storing up a lot of frustration and hatred. He may have no loyalty for you left."

The leech gritted his teeth in pain as he felt a cut on his calf muscle. "I suggest you concentrate on fighting instead of talking," Hoja heard Goten say.

The leech took one look in Goten's eyes and knew that if things kept going the way they were, he was going to lose.

Summoning his strength, Hoja threw a particularly nasty ki-blast at Goten, knocking him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him as well. It didn't buy much time…

…just enough to effectively turn the tide of battle.

* * *

Goten landed hard and furiously tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. The leech was obviously getting desperate. Goten grinned. Good.

"Can Buu fight now?"

"It's ok, Buu," Goten said lightly. "I've got him."

Buu looked uncertain. "But bad man's power gonna get big."

"Wha…?"

Before Goten could finish his thought, the leech started glowing.

* * *

Bulma and Bra finally touched down in the front yard of the Son House. Chichi was already in the doorway, motioning them in. "Have you heard any news?" she shouted.

"Only that they raised the dragon," Bulma said as she plopped in a chair. She felt like she hadn't slept in days. "And everyone knows tha… Hey Videl… and Pan."

Pan was lying on the couch. "Hey."

Videl was sitting on a couch arm. "I think she means, 'Hello, Bulma-san. How are you?'"

Pan rolled her eyes tiredly. "Yeah. What she said."

Bra sat on the floor. "Shouldn't you be out fighting, Pan?"

Pan smiled. "I think having all the energy sucked out of you qualifies you to sit out the rest of the battle. 'Sides… Mom won't let me go."

Videl shrugged. "Since Goten's alive, the fight shouldn't last much longer."

Bulma looked up sharply. "Goten's alive… And you didn't think that was news to tell me!"

"Dragon called," Pan said tiredly. "It was self-evident."

"Honey, are you okay?" Videl asked through a yawn.

"Yeah… just sleepy," Pan said, drifting off.

The others watched in horror as Videl slumped over Pan's sleeping body.

* * *

Jiten fought against the green arms that held him like a vise. He didn't know how he was going to get away. He didn't even know really where they were going, although he felt like they had been flying a long time before he had attained consciousness.

"You might want to wait for a senzu bean before trying to escape," his captor's deep voice intoned.

Pain ripped through Jiten's torso, as if in reply to Piccolo's comment. He stopped struggling, knowing that he would be absolutely no help to his master if he wasn't healed. He wasn't even sure why he was alive.

You've sold yourself to a master. The only life under a master you can have is pain and death.

Vegeta's words came unbidden to him. Whether he liked it or not… whether he would follow it or not, Jiten certainly remembered Vegeta's lesson.

His master was fighting at the moment. Fighting…

"WHAT!"

The word tore from Jiten's throat before he knew it. Piccolo's grip tightened around him as the Namek misinterpreted a violent twitch of surprise for a bid for escape.

_Dad… My dad… He's… alive? But where's Mom?_

Jiten focused his energy on finding his mother. He wasn't sure why he was doing it. Nothing was making sense – he wasn't sure about any of his loyalties…

He felt a flicker of his mother's presence… swiftly gone. It probably hadn't been there in the first place. His mother was dead, and his father was fighting his master, and nothing made sense, and he didn't know who to trust, and…

The grip around him slackened.

Confused, Jiten looked up slightly at Piccolo. He couldn't see the Namek's face, but he knew that their pace was slowing considerably, and Piccolo's energy was plummeting.

In the meantime, Jiten's injuries seemed to be knitting.

"GOHAN!"

Jiten recognized the cry from the human Krillen. Apparently both Gohan and Piccolo were getting the energy sucked right from them. But… that didn't make sense.

Did I do that? Did I suck the energy from them without realizing? I feel… stronger. My injuries are gone and I'm strong again.

No, he hadn't done that. Already he was feeling his master grow more and more powerful. He remembered now what Hoja was doing. He had taken the energy again of all the people he and Jiten had taken before. His master was winning.

With all doubts completely set aside, and leaving Krillen to catch his master's victims before they fell to the ground, Jiten set off for the battle, grinning madly. If his master was going to win, he was going to watch.

* * *

**Reviewer thanks:**

**dbzneon**: I realize the lure of Naruto, although I never really cared for the series myself, but please don't give up on me. I am extremely flattered that you consider me one of the last greats in DBZ fanfiction. : ) See there, I smiled.

**zara m**: I gotta stop leaving at these cliffhangers if I'm not going to update for freakin' ever. Don't worry, we'll see more action with Vegeta soon enough. I'm not giving up on my favorite character.

**AnimeLuv4evr**: Yes, this person will not read this, as the person made it very clear that he or she didn't like my story, but I didn't want to leave out anyone that had the consideration to review.

**Dark Wolf**: I'm so glad I could emulate a DBZ-type cliffhanger. That gives me a warm feeling, as your reviews always give me.

**Engar**: Don't give up on Goku yet. I wouldn't forget him, and I'm not the type to leave him out just because I occasionally find him annoying. I guess in my story I'm doing a parody of the usual "Goku sits out most of the battle because he's running down Snake Way/healing up/in a coma/dead" scenario. Only now, he's not the hero.

**ilex9**: Your review made me feel the best. Fics did take a back seat to my life right now, and I was glad to get a word of encouragement in that.

**crazed fanatic anime fan**: I love that people feel sorry for Hoja.

**Flying Arcanine**: Thank you so much!


	53. Live to Fight

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball Z.

**Author's Notes**: So, here's my yearly installment… Really, I don't mean for this to keep on being a yearly thing. I make no excuses. Just know that, as you're reading this chapter, I'm starting on the next one while I still have time.

**Chapter 51**: Live to Fight

Vegeta wished he could say he'd never run away from a fight in his life. It would almost make his decision a bit more… momentous. However, he could not say that. In fact, running away used to be a pattern for him. It used to be the only way he could stay alive. Hell, he'd even tried to run away from Frieza in that final battle, even when he knew it was pointless.

Or maybe this was momentous, since he wasn't running out of fear.

Vegeta knew a battle was raging in the ever-growing distance behind him, but he tuned it out. He just couldn't concentrate on that right now. He did, however, know that the leech had had a power burst and Goten was starting to do right horribly.

_Damn. And I really thought the boy could handle this._

Of course, if he thought Goten could take out the leech, then why had Vegeta resorted to this?

Finally, the house loomed in sight. It was a small house, and seemed to Vegeta too small for the people who lived inside. Every resident of that house was larger-than-life in some way. Vegeta would certainly never be able to live in something that small. It would be like being in a spacepod all over again.

When he landed he suddenly realized how incredibly horrible he felt. Every bone ached. Every muscle felt torn in two. And all this from a simple beating. It hadn't even been as bad as some that Frieza could dish out. He knew he was getting older, but _damn_. He slumped again the wooden door with a thud, and then hit the ground hard when the door flung open.

"Dad! Are you okay!"

Vegeta was suddenly particularly aware of a teenage girl pouncing on him. He didn't remember Bra being strong enough to hurt him this much, but he also didn't remember being this injured.

"Fine, Bra. Now if you don't mind, my chest is about to collapse." Vegeta kept this as good-natured as possible with her knees digging into his stomach.

Vegeta sort of lost track of things for a few minutes, and woke up to find himself propped in a chair and with the distinctly horrid taste of senzu in his mouth. Bulma was staring at him, trying not to look so relieved. _She must have really been worried._

"What have I said about almost dying?" Bulma said in her best mock mom voice.

"Blame your offspring," Vegeta shot back. From his vantage point he could see Pan and Videl slumped over a couch, with Bra and Chichi trying to wake them up. "What happened to them?"

"Thought you could tell us," Bulma said quietly.

Vegeta hauled himself up, completely ignoring Bulma's restraining hand. He hadn't come here merely for a patch-up. "The leech. He probably sucked their power before, so I guess he can do it again from a distance. If you have more senzu, I suggest giving it to them quickly."

"How's my son doing?" Chichi asked abruptly. Bra was taking care of the women with extra senzu. "I know he's alive now."

"He's fine," Vegeta lied. "Fighting the leech right now. It should be over soon. But… just in case, where's Kakarrot?"

Chichi possibly knew that Vegeta was lying, but didn't take him up for it. "By the lake. As usual. Vegeta, there's no way… I've _tried_…"

"Kakarrot's had a year. Now he's getting over it."

Vegeta found the small path to the lake (he knew Kakarrot's house more than he'd care to admit). Before he took the path, Bulma caught up to him, unintentionally slamming the door.

"It's bad, isn't it," Bulma said.

Vegeta almost laughed. "What do you think, woman? _I'm_ going to _Kakarrot_ for help."

"Shit."

In an impulse, Vegeta went to Bulma and kissed her lightly. Not enough to lead Bulma to believe they were all going to die, but enough.

As he walked down the path, Bulma called out after him, "Don't die, okay?"

Vegeta didn't respond. Bulma would know how he felt anyway.

The path to the lake was well-cleared and only mildly steep going down. Vegeta remembered when he and Kakarrot had once sparred by the lake and completely destroyed the little path. Vegeta didn't know how she did it, but Chichi made him spend the entire weekend with Kakarrot just repairing the path.

Kakarrot looked like he was meditating. He was sitting, legs crossed, facing the lake. His back was ram-rod straight, and Vegeta sensed the tension in the air starting several feet away from Kakarrot.

Kakarrot was sensing the battle and could only just stay where he was.

"Enjoying the scenery, Kakarrot?" Vegeta began snidely. Sometimes just being irreverent was enough to set Kakarrot off. Vegeta had seen sides of Kakarrot that few had ever seen. Probably no one but Vegeta knew that sometimes Kakarrot could just get plain pissy, especially with Vegeta.

"Get the hell out of here, Vegeta," Kakarrot said warningly.

Vegeta smirked. This would be easier than he thought. "And miss all the action? Look… I think I saw a fish jump."

Kakarrot didn't answer.

Vegeta crossed his arms and sighed. Why did he always have to play psychologist to the Son family? As his daughter would say, that was a family with too much drama.

* * *

Goten wiped the blood off his face. There'd been a close call when the leech had almost used the dagger again him, but Goten had gotten control in the last minute. A momentary control. 

Goten stood for a second, catching his breath. He was slightly grateful and slightly insulted that the leech merely watched him, allowing this momentary pause. The leech was crackling with energy. If he had taken more than his body could handle, the leech wasn't showing signs of that. Instead, he was casually tossing a ki ball in the air with one hand.

Goten grabbed his shoulder suddenly. The leech had hit him with the ki ball without him even seeing.

"Are you ready yet? I'm getting rather bored. Or would you rather be a stationary target?" The leech smiled at his own witticism. He was obviously enjoying himself.

"Don't think you've won already," Goten shot back. "I have power you've never even dreamed of."

Goten rushed at him suddenly, but the leech merely kicked him down as if he was expecting that.

"When are you people going to get it through your thick skulls that power isn't everything!" the leech exclaimed. "Not in the long run. I mean, look at me. I have the ability to suck the energy out of anything that breathes. And what do I do?"

Goten staggered back. That kick hurt him far more than he'd care to admit. He bided his time while the leech rambled.

"I'll tell you what I do. I take a year out of my life just for your son. To teach him. To form a relationship. Yes, a lot of it was about power. Since you've obviously been trained by a leech-fighter, you know that. But it wasn't the power that mattered. If it was, I might have taken you."

Goten shook his head. "You needed someone who could be easily influenced. Someone young."

The leech grinned. "Boy, you're an infant compared to me. The Buu-monster over there is at least a young adult compared to me. I am eternal. Older than the gods… or any gods living. So you might want to clam up and learn a little from your elders, like your son did."

Goten was frantically looking for a window to attack. He couldn't find any. The leech, no matter how caught up in his monologue, was completely on guard.

"My son would never turn to you," Goten spat back frantically. "He may have done what he needed to do to survive, but don't think for a minute that you have his loyalty. You can't just let him stay up late a few times… maybe give him extra cookies… and expect him to kill his father."

A high-pitched shriek rent the air. Both men turned to behold Jiten, pulsing with power, holding Buu by his head appendage.

"If that's what you think of me, _father_, you don't even know me."

Goten was barely aware when his knees gave way under him. Jiten calmly passed Goten and walked to the leech, sharing in the newly-acquired power. A field grew around the two, encasing them in power as they incorporated the ki into their own.

"With you and Mom, I was never good enough," Jiten continued. "I was always bad or incompetent. No matter how hard I tried or how much I improved in fighting, I was never good enough. You never let me grow. It was all about you and Mom. And anytime I had something to say, or had an idea, it didn't matter. My point of view didn't matter because I was a baby." Jiten looked at the leech pointedly. "I'm not a baby anymore. You can't make me feel bad anymore."

It was Jiten saying those words. Jiten, looking at him square in the eyes.

"I've already pledged my loyalty to Hoja, my master."

Goten couldn't even say anything. Instead, he dropped the knife, defeated.

* * *

"Can't you tell what's going on, Kakarrot? You can read it as well as I can." 

"Goten's fighting…"

"And losing," Vegeta finished for him. "And Jiten just joined the fray, draining Buu in the bargain. Kakarrot, the leech is getting stronger by the minute, and your son can't handle what's going on. Yes, he's strong, but he can't fight this alone."

Goku surged to his feet in a fit of energy. "So, whatever I do, it's wrong. That's it, isn't it? If I stay here, I'll be letting the leech kill my son and who knows who else. And if I join the fighting, I'll just hurt somebody else."

"Welcome to life, Kakarrot!" Vegeta was encouraged, though. At least Kakarrot was standing up. "That's what happens. We hurt each other. We can't help it. It's the nature of all living beings. But if we do nothing, we can't do any good, either."

Vegeta couldn't believe what he was saying.

Kakarrot laughed. "I can't believe what you're saying… you of all people…"

"Yes! Me of all people! Definitely me of all people. I have dealt pain beyond anything your limited mind can comprehend. Do you realize how many people I've killed in my lifetime? Women… children… little asexual creatures… I've done it all. But you don't see me shying away from a fight. You don't see me hiding myself away."

"Aren't you?" Kakarrot demanded.

Vegeta eyed him dangerously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kakarrot shrugged. "I mean, you keep complaining about being trapped on this mudball of a planet. Well, you're not trapped. Bulma has plenty of spacecrafts. In fact, that gravity chamber is a spacecraft. I took one myself to Namek; it's comfortable. What's holding you here… Bulma? Take her with you! She'd love to just retire completely and go off into space. In fact, she's complained to Chichi about you always shut down whenever she suggests just that."

Vegeta just glared. "Since when did it come to my problems, O Depressed One?"

"You were calling me a coward when you're really the coward. You don't want to show your face, either because you're afraid of someone itching for payback… or because this is the only planet in the universe that doesn't hold you as a cold-blooded killer… because of me. You're afraid to leave my… protection."

Vegeta let the tirade wash over him with a smirk. "Interesting… I don't remember using the word… 'coward'… before. Freudian slip there?"

"Who-de-what-y?" Goku asked. He was frustrated that Vegeta wasn't storming off already.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Read a book, why don't you? A Freudian slip means you said what you thought of yourself by accident, without any help from me."

Goku had had enough. He advanced to Vegeta, spiking his ki and using his superior height to his full advantage. A few inches away, he looked down into Vegeta's face. "Get… the fuck… out of here."

Vegeta smirked. "Why don't you push your head further up your ass if you like talking shit that much?"

In a blur of speed and power, Vegeta found himself on the ground feeling like his head had caved in.

"You don't know!" Goku yelled. "What he showed me? I've killed innocent people. My grandfather, for one… For years, I didn't know I was the monster who killed my grandfather."

"It happens," Vegeta said, pulling himself up. "You don't think there where ever any accidents with children on Vegeta-sei? I killed one of my bodyguards when I was two."

"There were innocent people in the Red Ribbon Army. Did I care? I just killed all of them."

"It doesn't matter!" Vegeta yelled. "Fuck, Kakarrot. _This_… is what kept you depressed all year? It doesn't matter what you do. Kakarrot… there's not an evil bone in you. That's what annoys me so much about you. Those… Red Ribbon people? They're the ones who killed those innocent people. And I know about evil armies that draft innocent people… I was in one! I was nine when I was drafted, and at the time, innocent. But just like those soldiers, I didn't have a chance. They were going along with it, following orders, just like I was. Imagine if someone had killed little innocent nine-year-old me. Imagine how many people wouldn't have died by my hand."

Goku shrugged. "But someone else would have just done it anyway…"

"Exactly."

"Vegeta, you're not making sense."

Vegeta was ready to scream. "Kakarrot, what I'm trying to say is that it's useless to second-guess yourself. You can't know what would have changed if you had done anything differently. You can't know what would have happened if you'd tried to do anything differently with Jita."

Goku flinched.

"Just stop trying to be a hero," Vegeta continued. "Then you're only worried about how heroic you are. Hell, that's what Hercule does all the time, and look at him.

"You can only be what's true to you. Right now, you should be fighting, but you're not because you're paralyzed… afraid that you might screw something up. You really are a coward. And I'm done talking."

Vegeta began walking away.

* * *

Darjili landed before the others, eager to see Goten. What she saw was a Goten who wasn't doing very much, Buu down for the count, and Jiten and the leech looking very much more powerful than anything she'd ever seen in her life. 

"Goten-sensei!" she yelled, running up to him.

He didn't respond.

"…What's going on?" she asked tentatively.

Goten still hadn't responded when Trunks landed right beside the two. "Darjili, I told you to stay behind with the others."

Darjili shrugged him off. "Danton and Krianan are staying with the dragonballs. What's the big?"

Pecon landed third. Trunks heaved a big sigh. "The big is… never mind." He turned his attention to Goten. "Goten, you all right?"

Goten jerked his head up, almost as if he hadn't noticed them until right then. "I've failed, Trunks."

Trunks laughed a bit. "What? You've barely even fought him. Haven't even gotten past the prelims."

"It doesn't matter. Jiten is loyal to him. I've failed."

Trunks wanted to hit his friend. He wanted to snap Goten out of it. He wanted to tell him that they still had a wish on the dragonballs, and that they still had plenty of fight and fighters, and that Goten just needed to get over himself.

"Screw that," Trunks spat out. He didn't have the time. The world didn't have the time.

"Hey ugly!" he yelled, angling himself in front of Goten so at least the leech wouldn't focus on his defeated friend.

The leech looked over casually at the newcomer.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you. Think you've won? Think you've drained me of my power? We haven't even gotten this started good!"

The leech got up slowly. Jiten remained where he was, yet watched his master closely, obviously ready to step in the fight whenever he was needed.

"Haven't you had enough, little Saiyan? Shouldn't you be in the boardroom, not the battlefield?"

Trunks shrugged. "Same dif. And I'm about to negotiate the life right out of you."

The barrier dissipated. Trunks kept on his toes, really not wanting to make the first move. He just wasn't confident enough.

The leech didn't look like he was going to attack, anyway. He looked more in the talking mood. "Really, what's the deal with this planet? I mean, I was prepared to get a lot of power, but this is crazy-ville. Who's come to attack me? A long-out-of-practice demi-Saiyan – one of the weakest – and a couple of humans. All the other strong fighters have either given up or run away. You people had a year to prepare. Did you do nothing? I wanted a fight, but this is just sad."

"For someone who wants a fight so much, you just keep talking," Pecon interjected.

The leech clapped his hands decisively. "Right. Let's fight. Whatever."

With that, the world seemed to explode.

* * *

"Wait." 

Vegeta paused. He smiled. Ten seconds exactly.

"What makes you think we're going to win?" Goku asked reluctantly. He was stubbornly staring away from Vegeta.

Vegeta shrugged. "Nothing. We might die. If we wait longer, we're probably going to die. We don't know how to get Jiten away from the leech, and he just might be lost forever. I did what I could with him, and that has to be enough."

"Reassuring."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Kakarrot, I'm tired of being your counselor. If you're in, you're in. I'm getting bored around here, and I know you are, too. We're in it for the fight, psychosis be damned. Are you in?"

"I don't suppose you have a plan to back up your insults," Goku said.

Vegeta frowned. This was the part of the plan that was least fun. "Let me give you a hint. It begins with an F and ends with an N."

"Fusion!" Goku's voiced changed pitch about five times.

"Right now, neither of us are a match. Together… fused," he spat out the word, "even I have to admit we're much stronger. The fight with the leech has gone on too long. We need to end it now."

"But we don't have the earrings…"

"I've seen out kids do that fucking dance a million times. I hate to admit it, but it's the best solution."

Goku still hesitated.

Miles and miles away, he felt the fight begin again… or at least the leech fighting. The others were merely trying to stay alive.

He had not other choice.

The flight to the battle ground was short. The two Saiyans weren't conserving energy since they knew when they fused they would have more than enough.

The fight was going badly, Goku could tell. Goten wasn't really fighting; mostly avoiding the fight. Trunks and the two Spider students were trying to fight, but nothing was getting in. And the leech wasn't even trying.

_Why am I even coming to battle?_ Goku couldn't help but think. He'd sworn not to fight this time. He hadn't even exercised for a year. What did he expect to do?

_I have no right to fight. I don't care what Vegeta says. I only hurt people whenever I fight. It's this urge to fight that killed the Red Ribbon Army – I could have easily stuck in and gotten the dragonballs. This urge killed my grandfather… I don't know how many times I almost killed him when I was a child. I hurt Chichi, Gohan, Goten… Everyone I love has been hurt by this stupid, mindless fighting. Why did the Saiyans become like this…_

Goku looked over at his fellow Saiyan, who seemed entirely focused on the battle ahead. _He loves fighting as much as I do, but he never really hurts anyone. Sure, at first, but he never really directly hurt Bulma and Trunks. Just people he didn't really care about. How does he manage it?_

Goku suddenly realized Vegeta had stopped and was heading for the ground.

"Vegeta, we're not there yet," Goku said as he landed beside Vegeta.

"Do you think I want _anyone_ to see us fuse? We do it now while there's plenty of time and no one looking. Plus, if we actually do screw this up, we can bide our time until we can try again."

Goku conceded. It made sense, and he probably would have thought of it if he weren't so preoccupied.

Goku assumed the familiar position. He may have been severely out of practice, but he never forgot a technique.

Fusion generally takes a relatively short amount of time. A bright flash of light and two people are instantaneously one. That's to outsiders. For the participants, there is a melding of consciousness that seems longer. Everything is at the speed of thought, but the thoughts are in real time.

Goku remembered the first time he'd fused with Vegeta. The Potera fusion held that same melding of consciousness. What he'd felt during the fusion was… strange, to say the least.

During the fusion, he'd seen his and Vegeta's earlier fight through different eyes. It was as if he had Vegeta's perspective for an instant. What he'd seen was betrayal. He'd sensed a lifetime of desperation for strength and power. While Goku had always had a chance to be strongest, Vegeta had always felt like he was the lowest when only a few people were stronger.

During fusion, the personality of the fusion is also established. It is usually a fair blending of the two, but it also leans more to one side, choosing a dominant personality, especially when the two personalities are fairly polarized. At the time, Goku had been preparing to enter the Potera fusion as the dominant. He didn't trust Vegeta to get the job done, or to try to save the children. However, when he'd experienced that moment of melding, he'd decided to give Vegeta the chance. Hence, Vejito.

Goku didn't know what to expect going in to this fusion. He didn't even know that memories so deep could resurface like this.

"_But father, if we threw everything we had at defeating Frieza, including our allies, we would stand a chance. But we don't even try."_

Goku wanted to shy away from this memory. It was obviously a private moment between the very young Vegeta, obviously pre-abduction, and King Vegeta. However, he felt like something was physically holding him there.

"_At what risk, my son. The risk of the lives of every Saiyan alive? And still we might not win? That is too much to ask of our people. We bide our time and learn to fight another day."_

"_But that's not the Saiyan way, father."_

_King Vegeta laughed. "You still have a lot to learn about the Saiyan way. Tell me, what is the defining characteristic of Saiyans?"_

_Vegeta shrugged. "Besides the tail thing… we love to fight?"_

"_Exactly. But why do we fight?"_

_Vegeta scrunched up his face. "Is this a test?"_

"_Just fighting to be fighting is meaningless. It's empty. Except for the empty goal of getting stronger, we don't gain anything from it._

"_We do it for love…"_

"I lost sight of that, Kakarrot… just as you have."

The words came unbidden in Goku's mind, just as his mind was combining with another. Goku didn't have time to think about it. He didn't have time to sort out the moral implications, or figure out the Saiyan way of life.

In that instance, before becoming all the way fused, he just accepted it.

* * *

Pecon was unconscious. Darjili was still trying to fight, but she hadn't seemed to realize she had a broken arm. Trunks was just trying to keep his wits about him while attacks came from all sides. 

And Goten was fighting again.

"I thought you were down for the count," Trunks said tightly through the pain.

Goten had his back against his, trying to fend off at least half of the attacks. "Sorry about that. I guess I sort of…"

"Gave up?"

Goten laughed. "Kind of stupid, wasn't it?"

Trunks didn't respond.

"… I guess I couldn't stand watching all of this."

Trunks sighed. "I can't blame you for wanting to give up. But now's go time. You were in the afterlife for a year. Yes, you're stronger, but surely you have something else up your sleeve."

Goten smelled burned hair. He wondered whose it was. "I have… something. But I need time. I need to get inside the leech's head, but I can't do it with him concentrating on me even a little bit."

Trunks fell down from a blast that struck home and immediately got back up. "Wish I could help you."

"You need diversion?" Goten heard two voices ask. Goten looked around and then realized the voices were inside his mind.

"D-dad? Vegeta? Dad?" he asked telepathically. He was glad for all the psychic training – he didn't even have to break his concentration.

"Yes and yes," the voices came back. "I'm about to step in. Make sure you're ready."

Goten's eyes widened. He grabbed Trunks's arm. "I think we need to duck."

The attacks ended and the black sky turned white.

When the smoke cleared, the leech was picking himself up and dusting off. "Well, I was wondering when the real power would get here."

A Saiyan entity, crackling with power, stood in the middle of the battlefield turned wasteland. The figure smirked and said with double voice, "You're lying. You had no idea I'd be coming."

The leech frowned. "Wait… you're not just Goku."

"I'm not just anything. I'm everything. I'm the man who's going to kill you."

"Watch out, master," Jiten yelled, "it's a fusion!"

The leech smiled. "Thank you, Jiten. I had figured that one out. Well, what's next… I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. I can't just call you Vegeta… or Goku, for that matter…"

The fusion straightened his yellow and black vest. "Name's Gogeta. And, next? We fight."

The leech seemed to slump in frustration. "What is it with you Saiyans? All you live for is fighting. Don't you ever get tired of it?"

Gogeta smirked. "Sometimes. But it's been a long time and I'm itching for a good fight… and maybe some payback to go along with it."

* * *

Jita looked over her shoulder at Shin. "How much time left for quarantine?" 

Shin looked up, as if consulting the barrier. "A little less than an hour. Why do you ask?"

Jita grinned. "I may get there in enough time after all."

**

* * *

Reviewer thanks: **

**Dark Wolf**: I did prove you wrong. It's not November, is it! Ha-ha! Well, my hard drive crashed before, so it would have been November otherwise. Anyway, luv ya!

**Ilex9**: Gogeta smash! (I was so tempted…) Anyway, if you like hubris, here's more!

**PannyGirl**: I just finished watching YuYu Hakusho (it took me forever to download… I mean BUY, of course… don't arrest me…). I guess that strangely got me back into the DBZ fanfiction mood. I guess it's the sheer amount of drama… Anyway, I haven't quit yet!

**Crazed fanatic anime fan**: I'm glad to have rekindled your lost love of DBZ.

**Shahi1990**: Sometimes one must wait.

**Lady Gryffin**: Yes, it does suck to be Jiten.


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